Unfinished Business
by Wild Craze
Summary: X3. Magneto has new recruits and plans, Xavier and the X-Men try to deal with mutant assassins with their ways of thinking, Stryker is crazy and wants revenge, questions about Jean's death, the rumour of a lethal virus and much, much more!
1. Introduction to Our Way of Life

~Title: Unfinished Business  
  
~Author: Wild Craze (hello!)  
  
~Rating: PG-13, for my protection, mild language and action violence later on, but it's not more than that.  
  
~Summary: This is my X-Men 3!!! It's a story with the same battle between humans and mutants fighting for their share of the world, in which I introduce multiple other characters (and I personally think you will like them). Magneto and the Brotherhood still have a couple of tricks up their sleeves to try to impose their ways, while Professor X and the X-Men need to deal with a group of mutant assassins with their own point of view, spreading terror to humanity, but pride and confidence to mutants. Rogue is still trying to control her mutation, the professor starts to question Jean's rash death, Logan's past now running after him right when he was ready to forget it, and much, much more!!  
  
~Disclaimer: I don't own any of the X-Men, or any other character you recognize. All the other characters are MINE, and you are not allowed to use them without my *authorization*.  
  
~Extra: This is a sequel to 'A Life Worth Living'. There won't be any real relation to that story for quite a while and so you can go ahead and start reading, but you need to read A Life Worth Living to understand some future parts better. And don't forget to review after reading it! ^_^  
  
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Chapter 1: Introduction to our way of life  
  
New York. A city like so many others, and yet one of the most acknowledged in the world. Home to eight million individuals, including myself. Those people, the 'others', they would tell you: nothing happens or changes from yesterday to tomorrow . . . The same monotonous pattern: one day, we come to life, and another, we leave it . . . forever. What they forget is that between those two very special days, there is the mystery of life.  
  
Of course for some, there is no mystery at all. They just live their lives as it comes without preoccupying themselves with anything else, and that way, several very essential things escape their attention:  
  
For example, those moments of pure happiness that I like to say, scintillate, sparkle and fizz like bubbles in a glass of lemonade.  
  
Those people, to whom there is no mystery, see them, but simply don't feel them.  
  
Those moments are those that stay engraved in their memories forever, yet also the ones they ignore mostly as they only preoccupy themselves with unimportant things around which their lives evolve, as they stay in their own little world.  
  
These people live without actually living; because the saying is true: Everyone who lives, dies, but not everyone who dies, actually lives. I consider myself a person, a 'someone' able to be happy. Because that is true success. It's liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it.  
  
I learned rather quickly that the world was bigger than I imagined. Filled with people like me, living my case.  
  
Living their lives . . . hum.  
  
Life. For some, it is paradise, for others, many others, a living hell. Yes, a *living* hell.  
  
Life shows you many things. Sometimes it's too soon, sometimes too late, but there is one thing in particular that I've learned from life, which obligates me not to trust it. ever.  
  
Life is unfair. Incredibly unfair. It twists, turns and pushes you, either by your race, your colour, your style, or any other thing like that . . . and so, nothing happens in your existence until you decide to break the rules of the game, break the rules of the game of your own life. After that very, very tough step forward -that many people never do-, you feel liberated and incredibly free. The only thing, the only problem is that you are never seen the same by humanity, by those who have never dared to make that 'step'. You are seen . . . as a different person, because we live our lives the way we want too, by fighting back, even when it's hard and we feel everything is about to give up.  
  
We are seen as the crazy ones.  
  
The misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes, the revolutionists, in short, the ones who see this differently, who aren't fond of rules, and so don't follow them.  
  
We have no respect for the status quo. People disagree with us, and label us, vilify us, and very rarely glorify us.  
  
But the only thing other people, normal people, absolutely can't do, is ignore us. Because we're special. Because we change things. We push the human race forward, and while the others, the ones who don't break the rules, see us as the crazy ones, others see us as what we really are. They see genius.  
  
Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change he world, are the ones who do. And that is what *we* do. We are here to change the world, to fight, to let it accept a new generation. Us.  
  
That is what we have learned. That we are born to fight back. Too fight for our acceptance. A mutant named Foe taught me that.  
  
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Personally, I find that's an interesting introduction. This is one of the first X-Men texts that I wrote, something like a year and a half ago (except for the last part). ^_^ What do you think? Review and tell me. 


	2. All of Us

The person speaking during the intro is not Magneto or a member of the Brotherhood, but (as you have seen) is not on Xavier's side. There are many possibilities to who might have said it, and I won't precise who. You're allowed to guess for yourself.  
  
Little chat about what's happening with me:  
  
Hey! I went to the Vans Warped Tour yesterday! It was just . . . sooo fun! I saw Simple Plan, Mest, The Ataris, the All-American Rejects . . . it was awesome! And I got autographs, took pictures and chatted with Simple Plan (all except David . . . he wasn't there and he's my fave!) My sister gave me an autograph from the singer in the All-American Rejects (I am now obsessed with that guy's eyes). I'm an idiot, so I missed Rancid (which is probably for the best because I would have been squashed to death). I am definitely going back next year.  
  
Now, I just had to tell you this . . . my friend and I were coming back from the Warped Tour. Her father was driving. We stopped at a red light and this really dumb guy listening to R&B music really really loud stopped next to us. We put 'My Bloody Valentine' from Good Charlotte super loud. But for those who have heard the song, you all know that it stars low and the music 'jumps' higher at one point. Well, it 'jumped' right when the green light started and it was so loud the guy in the other car jumped really high and looked at us with this abselutely flabbergasted look before racing away. We were just cracking up all the way back home.  
  
End of the little chat about what's happening with me.  
  
Thanks to all my reviwers! Tigereyes, TheGriffin, Chaos Issues and Em! Thanks! As you will probably notice, my chapters are going to be longer than in 'A life Worth Living'. You might also find that the writing style is a little different.  
  
Now read on! I wrote this chap in April. A part was corrected and added after I saw the second movie.  
  
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Chapter 2: All of us  
  
The professor tapped his fingers on the side of his desk again. Using his power, he had located Scott, and didn't like where he was . . . at all.  
  
Scott was at the cemetery, kneeling down in the grass, looking sadly at the tomb in front of him. It was already surrounded by flowers, but still, the poor man had brought more, a bouquet of roses in his hand. His eyes wandered to the letters engraved in the stone, spelling a name and a quote: Jean Grey Summers. You will be missed.  
  
A tear glided down Cyclops' cheek but he ignored it, passing his fingers on the engraved name.  
  
Two months had passed since the Alkali Lake Base incident. Two months had passed since Jean had died. Two months had passed since Scott's life didn't have a meaning anymore. Two painful months. And it made Scott's heart stop beating when he thought that the rest of his life would be like that. Without Jean. Without his angel, the light of his life by his side.  
  
But still . . . a blind hope still lived heart: the thought that there was no body buried in that grave. Hope, weak but invincible in his heart, the thought that she was alive . . . somewhere.  
  
Scott sighed, smiled weakly and got up, adjusting his visor on his face and whipping the tear strain on his face.  
  
She was going to come back. She just needed to find her way home.  
  
Scott gave one last look at the tomb and turned around, walking towards his car, parked outside the Westchester Cemetery's gate.  
  
When she'll come back, he didn't know . . . but he'll be waiting.  
  
~~~  
  
Scott drove back to the mansion, passing back in his head what had changed since their return from Alkali Lake. For first, Rogue and Bobby's relation wasn't doing very well. Bobby was always trying to touch her, telling her that he would be fine, but she knew better, and it bugged her. Bobby was also sick of waiting around for something to happen, and Rogue knew she would probably have to let him go. She thought a boy like him didn't belong by her side. Everyone knew a break-up was soon to come, but for now, they were just pretending everything was all right and it was destroying their relation.  
  
Logan had been drinking a lot these past weeks, fighting in the Danger Room, staying in his own little world, in his room, blaming himself and saying it was his fault Jean was gone, running off to the city, coming back drunk, and that showed that he had to drink a lot since his healing factor usually did the job to keep him sober. He was incredibly hostile to whoever tried to help him, but was trying to pull himself together. Right now, he was on the good path.  
  
Ororo hadn't cried much. She was trying to give strength to the others, and it was working. She had continued her classes, continued her life, but there was always something sad in her look. She had lost her best friend . . . but Nightcrawler was there to cheer her up the best he could. They were just friends, everyone knew that. She always went to him now, talking to him as she would have to Jean. He wasn't always there, going from one place to another, leaving for a week or two and coming back *literally* out of nowhere, but he was welcomed. He still kept on praying, something Storm didn't quite understand. He prayed for Jean's soul, prayed for all the X- Men, prayed for God's forgiveness for all that he and others had done wrong . . .  
  
Pyro wasn't heard of, and they all supposed he was still with Magneto. The mutant protestant-acts had stopped just a little bit, because of the president's speech, but they were coming back, with more leaders, perhaps.  
  
The professor was trying, like Ororo, to give strength to the others by keeping his head high, even if the loss of Jean had had a big effect on him, since he considered her as his daughter. But she was gone, and he knew they all had to live on . . . even if somehow, like others like Scott, there was that flame of hope in his heart.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Magneto frowned, his eyes fixed on the television in front of him. A man was talking about how mutants were still fighting for their share of the world, with no success. There had been some minor mutants attack across the world since the Liberty Island incident, and Magneto was glad that some mutants could understand what he was trying to impose.  
  
Two boys were sitting not too far behind him, each in comfy chairs. The first one, slouched in the first armchair, was playing with a lighter. He was easily recognizable. His name was John, more commonly known as Pyro, a fire manipulator. He looked relatively bored, flicking his lighter at a regular pace. He was thinking about his choice, the one he had made two months ago: he had left the X-Men, and had joined Magneto's Brotherhood. Why? He sometimes wondered. Maybe it was just for the fun, or maybe he just had been sick of all that X-Men bullshit. What he wanted to do was show to the world that he was capable of something. It was the real reason of his joining the Brotherhood.  
  
The boy sitting in front of him in a large mushy armchair had his knees to his chin. He looked much younger than Pyro, who was probably around the age of eighteen, but he was actually the same age than he. He had a mix of dark blond and light brown hair, but his roots were definitely a dark brown. His hair couldn't be thought of as short, but couldn't at all be considered long. His eyes were of a discrete cerulean tone, and his skin was of a light tone. He looked confident, but too young to be in the place he was.  
  
He was wearing ¾ dark blue pants with multiple pockets, had extra-large white socks and a large used vest. All these articles of clothing looked two sizes too big for this boy not to tall in height. He was also wearing a black shirt, but his big black mountain boots were on the floor, letting him float in his socks. He was playing with his hands, both covered by black fingerless gloves. He was eyeing Pyro's lighter, looking very annoyed by the sound it was making.  
  
"Stop that," he exclaimed suddenly, almost jumping out of his seat.  
  
Pyro smiled.  
  
"I left the X-Men to be able to do what I want, so don't expect me to obey to *you*," he said, flicking the lighter.  
  
The boy sat back in his armchair, an evil glint in his eyes. He watched as Pyro continued playing with his lighter, forming little fireballs with his fingers. After a few moments of silence, the boy's eyes somewhat narrowed as he raised one of his hands. The three fireballs Pyro had formed disappeared.  
  
"Stop that!" John shouted furiously.  
  
"I left my home to be able to do what I want, so don't expect me to obey to *you*," the boy said calmly, knowing that he was truly playing with fire.  
  
Pyro, was now standing up a few feet away from the boy still sitting in his armchair and had his hands in fists.  
  
Magneto turned around from the TV post, glaring at the two teenagers.  
  
"Pyro, Hooligan," he said with authority as a door opened behind them. "Stop this rubbish."  
  
They all turned around at see Mystique standing in the doorway. There was a moment of silence, broken by Magneto a few moments later.  
  
"Come now," he said. "We have business to attend to."  
  
He walked passed everyone, followed by Pyro, the boy named Hooligan and the blue woman.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
An irritating beeping sound could be heard, and it obviously belonged to an alarm clock, yet it was strange to hear it so late in the night. It was placed on a nigh table, beside a medium sized bed on which were messed up covers between which were sleeping a man. He was just getting out of his sleep, and was probably ignoring the sound his clock was making. He only stirred a little at the beginning, but as his senses came to life, he started noticing that the sound was getting more and more frustrating, and since he was a man with not much patience or tolerance, his arm came out of the covers, searched a moment on the side of the table, and finally, he slammed his fist on top of the annoying piece of plastic, making the noise stop instantly. His arm fell limply on the side of the mattress for a moment, before moving again, in search of the clock. Once he found it again, he took it, his face starting to be visible under the mass of covers. His until-then-not-opened-eyes blinked a couple of times as he looked over at the time on his alarm clock, on which he read two a.m. He stretched under the covers, dropping his timepiece to the floor before getting into an upright position, passing his legs to the side of his bed and finally getting up at a snail's pace. He stretched again, sighing as he rubbed the tiredness away from his eyes.  
  
His apartment was small, packed with things and messy. The carpeted floor was literally covered by all types of books, CDs, papers, boxes, clothing and even things good enough to be in the garbage, like empty chips bags, cigarette boxes and different beverage cans. There were large shelves on one of the biggest walls, where there were more books, CDs and papers, but theses were all properly placed. The highest shelves were reserved for potted plants, whose green leaves and branches hung pretty much everywhere.  
  
Now for the man in question, he was very tall and, with one look at his muscles, he evidently worked out. He was incredibly tanned, had a straight nose and had eyes the colour of the Pacific Ocean on Hawaiian postcards. Amazingly blue eyes. To his tan and eyes, we could have unmistakably imagined him with sandy blond hair, but it wasn't the case. His hair was plainly the colour of white gold, and only the roots were sandy blond. It was to say, he was incredibly good looking and it would have seemed very normal to see his face on magazine covers, but again, it wasn't the case. So it wasn't because of his looks that he was wanted on posters, it was more because of his . . . record. But that was another story.  
  
He walked to a large window on his left and leaning on the window frame, lit a cigarette with his available hand. The weather outside wasn't exactly pleasant, but he seemed to like it very much the way it was. Dark grey clouds covered the sky, thus the stars and moon couldn't be seen, and it was raining in a way rarely seen in the New York, so no one had been out today. The streets looked more like gigantic kiddie pools than anything else.  
  
The phone rang, and his sharp eyes narrowed, looking at the handset. He walked to it slowly, and picked it up by the fourth ringing. He stayed silent, listening.  
  
" . . . Count me in. What's the job?" he asked after a while. " . . . who do I recruit? . . . fine. I'll have them regrouped together in two days . . . . . . We'll be ready."  
  
He hung up and threw the phone on his bed.  
  
He walked to one of his shelves where his radio was placed after a few more minutes of contemplation in front of the downpour. He pressed a couple of buttons and a good tune started playing through his apartment. As the music played, he walked to his closet, took a look inside and after a brief hesitation, pulled out a pair of black pants and shirt to replace his torn and sleeveless grey top and pair of joggings. After changing, he walked to a nearby table from where he picked up a few necklaces that he passed around his neck. The first one was a silver cross, and the second was a simple string with a couple of beads and a small silver sword for ornament.  
  
Walking to the door after turning off the radio, he slipped on a pair of army boots and an old black trench coat before walking out of the door, grabbing a pair of keys before doing so. He shut the door and walked out into the cold streets of New York. He needed to recruit his old companions together again. The war was getting closer.  
  
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Please review! I really want to know what you all think of this! In the next chapter, you'll meet a big part of my assas- euh, my other characters. (*wink wink*) 


	3. Phone Calls

Well, I had a nice long chat with Stan Lee the other day and he agreed to share his treasures and so you must now as me first if you can to use Wolvie, Gambit, Deathstrike or Mystique or . . .(*sees Stan running in the room holding a baseball bat*). Okay . . . okay . . . I simply *borrowed* them. And so Gambit and Wolvie and the rest don't belong to me (*Stan Lee smiles and walks out, followed by his attorneys that had appeared thanks to Nightcrawler*) . . . I'm back on the cranberry juice, if you didn't notice.  
  
Now here is a very, very long chapter just for all of you. ^_^  
  
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Chapter 3: Phone Calls  
  
France, Nice . . .  
  
The sun shone bright in the clear sapphire sky, illuminating the Côte d'Azur with a spectacular radiance. The tortuous roads contoured the emerald hills, mountains and abrupt cliffs under which glorious blue waves hit the shore, moving pebbles and rocks ever time they came and went, providing some of the most beautiful and dignified views of France.  
  
The roads were divided in three ranks, each having a different height in the mountains. The first was at sea level, and was mostly punctuated by circulation signs, and having heavy road traffic at specific times. The second level was the medium cornice, and was much higher in the hills, bordered by magnificent villas, gardens and a lovely countryside. The highway was at the same level, built on high bridges that passed through mountains by long tunnels.  
  
The last type of road, located nearly at cloud level, was called the high cornice, and wasn't very commonly used by people, sometimes because of the frightening height, or the strong fog before or after hot rainy days, or even maybe because of the strong tortuousness, making the road even more dangerous and unsafe than it already was with the high humidity.  
  
It was on that specific road that a car was racing, it's wheels screeching loudly on the pavement, marking it with black trails every time it turned, ignoring the signs and driving in the right middle since it was the only vehicle in the surroundings.  
  
The car, a topless red Ferrari simply made to catch the eye, turned rapidly as it followed the path. The driver was young, definitely younger than twenty, and manipulated the car with extreme precision. He was missing everything from the scenery he was passing since all he could see was a green or blue blur, passing his car speedily. A smile plastered on his face, the black-haired teenager turned the wheel again, visibly enjoying his little race. He had tanned skin, which was normal seeing that he was in a country in which the temperature could easily reach forty degrees, thanks to the scorching sun. His eyes were a deep blue, hidden under a pair of back shades. He was tall for his age and well built. His shoulders were rather large, adding a look of strongness in his built. He was wearing a grey suit, without a tie or a bow, just a simple, yet stylish suit used for good occasion.  
  
Many curves later, he decided to slow down lightly, not wanting to pass the stop he wanted to pause at. He soon found it, empty, as always. It was a parking place near the road, mostly for tourists who wanted to admire the view.  
  
He jumped out of his vehicle, grabbing a water bottle from the passenger seat as he walked towards the ledge, from where the principality of Monaco could be seen at the foot of the mountain. He admired the sight for a while, leaning on his car's hood, smiling to himself.  
  
Some time later, he jumped back into his car and started the engine, ready to run off again. Right when he was about to press on the gas pedal, his cellphone rang.  
  
His eyebrows rose as he passed a hand through his naturally messed up hair. He picked up the phone and flicked it open, bringing it to his ear.  
  
". . . Yes?" he asked in a normal tone, a little accent, maybe English, rolling on his tongue. A smile reappeared on his face and a sparkle was visible in his eyes when he heard the voice at the other end.  
  
"When and where?" he asked, and a moment of silence was heard as his interlocutor answered him. "I'll be there in a day. I'm leaving from Nice. Give me nine hours."  
  
He hung up, and pressed on the gas pedal as he through the phone on the backseat.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
France, Paris . . .  
  
It was noon in Paris too, but unlike the Côte d'Azur, it was raining cats and dogs. The Parisians crazy enough to be out in this weather were hidden under large umbrellas, mostly being covered by large colourful designs. All didn't seem to like the temperature one bit, and they didn't mind complaining about it out loud. The traffic immobilized half the population, and so honks could be heard every minute or so.  
  
A medium sized boy could be discerned in the crowd of people squirming on the sidewalks. He was leaning on a lamppost, admiring what could be seen of the Eiffel tower on the other side of the Seine, and smoking a cigarette. He must have been standing there for quite a while since his brown trench coat was totally drenched with water, showing long darker trails on his shoulders and back. He didn't even seem to notice the pouring rain falling on his uncovered head, soaking his hair with the cold liquid, and making large, uneven bangs fall across his forehead, hiding his eyes from the view of others.  
  
In fact, when you looked closer, you noticed a particularity about this boy slowly reaching his twenties. His eyes, as well hidden as they could be, were an awfully eccentric colour, even if they could only be seen partially, and that made people suggest that he was a mutant, thus making them ignore him as he was never pushed by anyone on the sidewalk, left in his own little space. The fact was that the people who noticed the shimmer in his eyes when they came in their direction, immediately froze for a moment, gasping a little, before moving on. They were afraid.  
  
The boy himself was fairly attractive: tall, brown hair, fair complexion, good built, and maybe even something charming and intriguing in the way he looked at you, making girls blush immediately but there was one thing that gave it all way. His eyes were a deep, unforgiving red.  
  
Seeing that he was starting to get too noticeable, the boy started walking towards the bridge, far less crowded than the sidewalk, and once he reached the side, he leaned on it, looking at the dirty water flowing beneath the crossing.  
  
He pulled out a deck of cards absentmindedly and started shuffling it. Time passed and he visibly had nothing better to do than simply waist his time on a rainy day.  
  
Finally, he started to feel cold, because of the water that had finally reached his skin through his layers of clothing. He sighed and started walking away.  
  
Some time later, he arrived in a local French pub, where he decided to stay, to warm up. He hailed a pretty waitress and asked for a coffee, sitting at the far end of the bar, to avoid making eye contact with other people.  
  
The young woman came back a few moments later, a mug on her serving dish. She placed it in front of the boy, gave him a shy smile that he returned, and walked back to the counter, where a sturdy bald man was serving beer to older men. Looking down at his watch, he saw that it was already quarter to one, and he sighed.  
  
Like everywhere else, time passed in the pub as men and few women came and went, getting drinks, chatting, then leaving again. The boy watched them from his corner, occasionally asking for another drink and flirting with the waitress a little. As he was finishing his third coffee, the phone rang through the pub and the man from the counter picked it up, stopping the ringing immediately. He introduced himself in French as Milo's café, and asked what he could do for his interlocutor, but he frowned a few moments later, asking him to wait a moment. His eyes glided around his pub.  
  
He asked in French if there was someone named Remy Lebeau in his pub, saying that there was a call for him.  
  
Surprised, the boy frowned. Who could know that he was here at that precise moment? He rose from his seat and walked to the man, telling him that he was the one for who the call was directed. The man handed him the phone.  
  
"Gambit speaking," he said, a French accent being clearly heard in his voice. "To who do I 'ave ze honour of speaking to?"  
  
His face was expressionless for a moment, but he soon smiled mischievously, vaguely looking around the pub to make sure no one was listening. He stayed in silent for a moment, listening to the instructions he was being told.  
  
"Good," he finally said. "I'll take the first flight out of here. I'll contact you when I arrive."  
  
He hung up and smiled slyly at the barman, pulling out a couple of euros from his pocket, to pay for his drinks. He immediately walked out, and disappeared into the rain.  
  
At his table, the waitress found an ace of heart card, probably forgotten by purpose. It glowed in her had before disappearing in a puff of red smoke.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
California, San Francisco . . .  
  
Due to the time shift, if was midnight in San Francisco, but the city was still brightly illuminated. This time, it was in an apartment giving a wonderful view of the Golden Gate Bridge that a phone call was made. The apartment was of medium size, with plain white walls and had a lot of place to move around. The floor was of wood, there were a few tables, chairs and sofas for furniture, historical movie posters taped on the bare walls here and there, but besides that, the apartment was slightly empty. It was in a room further in the back, with a large tinted window from which we could see the city that there were more interesting things. This room wasn't very big compared to the others, and was filled with machines. Most of them seemed very modern, but some seemed to have been used for quite a while. There were colourful wires passing on the walls, many computer screens turned on to different web pages, things that looked like televisions and DVD players, other things that looked broken; and between all of that, there was a boy, seeming lightly younger than the two first ones that had been contacted in France, and so seemed fifteen or sixteen.  
  
He was sitting cross-legged in a chair, his face being illuminated up by the intermittent light coming from the big computer screen he was sitting in front of. His skin was of a tanned tone, but his face was still strangely pale, owed to his time passed inside, sitting in front of the computer or the television.  
  
His blond hair was somewhat short, spiked up with gel and his eyes were grey. He was thin, and didn't look too strong. With one look at his clothing, he was evidently a skater, even though he didn't seem to spend much time on a skateboard. He had a neutral look on his face as he looked at the screen, the web page reflecting in his eyes as it rolled down, allowing him to read further on. He didn't even need to use the mouse, since the machine seemed to be controlled by his simple thought.  
  
His eyes narrowed as the information on the screen changed and he started to read again. It was at that moment that his phone rang. He turned around, looking at the piece of machinery on the other side of the room and raised his hand towards it. The ringing stopped and he picked up a headset placed beside him, and slipped it on his head.  
  
"Hello?" he asked. " . . . No, it's Darren. Charlie's down town," he said, his eyes moving away from his screen. "What I'm doing up at this time? Reading FBI reports. Rather interesting to see how little they know about everything going on with us . . ."  
  
There was a long moment of silence as he just listened.  
  
" . . . Yes, of course we're in," he said finally. "Give me two hours to clean up the place and we're both out. We'll arrive tomorrow."  
  
He hung up and started shutting down his computers.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Venice, Italy . . .  
  
Like in Paris, it was raining. The only difference was that it was only raining in small mist-like droplets, and weren't strings of water pouring down from the sky. The streets were empty as the city on water was of a deadly silence, waiting for the sun, and thus people, to come back outside. Boats were covered and parked in front of houses, the sky was enlightened but grey and the cafes were nearly completely empty. This time, the call was made to a fancy hotel, room two-o-seven, to a certain Miss Cartier.  
  
At the moment, she was in the penthouse, taking a bath. Sitting in hot water, covered in white strawberry scented bubble bath. Her long brown hair was tied in a messy twist on the top of her head to prevent it from getting wet, but still, excluded curls fell on her wet shoulders. Her eyes closed, she was savouring the contact of the warm water to her skin.  
  
The ringing of her phone broke her concentration and she frowned, her hand reaching for a towel to clean off the water, and then to grab the white telephone placed next to the tub.  
  
"Yes?" she asked in French, lightly irritated about being disturbed. "Don't call me that, my name's Coral."  
  
She stayed silent, listening, as her eyes widened, before she frowned deeply.  
  
"No!" she exclaimed finally. "But I'm so well here! And we're supposed to lay low, remember? . . . ah . . . Yes. Fine, I'll be there tomorrow, but I want you to know that I'm not exactly pleased about you shortening my vacation."  
  
She hung up, held her breath and plunged under the thick layer of bubble bath.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Spain, near Valencia  
  
Gigantic waves dived towards the shore, spraying the sunbathers with cold haze. Teenage surfers were waiting for the best moment to throw themselves behind some of the mountains of water, while others watched further away, sitting near large fans and drinking cold drinks. The weather was beautiful, and yet terrible as the sun seemed to burn four times hotter than on regular days and seeing that the wind was completely missing in action. Some people were even wondering how come the waves could go so high when they weren't helped by a very strong breeze, but no logical answer could be given.  
  
Two teenage girls one wearing a blue bodysuit, the other a red one, were pushing their surfboards towards the water. Both were about eighteen. One was American, the other definitely part Hispanic. The American wearing the red suit had dark crimson hair, blue eyes and tanned skin. She wasn't tall but definitely not short and seemed like the kind of girl that followed fashions as they came and went. There were noticeable scars on both her wrists.  
  
The second girl was slightly smaller than the first, had thick, shoulder length brown hair tied in a ponytail like the other girl and had strange auburn eyes. Her skin was darker than the American and she somehow seemed to be enjoying herself more. Her eyes simply seemed to flicker wildly each time she dived under the water.  
  
"Let's go over there!" the redhead yelled over the noise the water was making. "Give me a strong low one, to start."  
  
The other girl smiled and dived under the water, pulling her board with her. Verifying that no one was looking in her direction, she let go of her board and headed deeper in the water. Once she was a good ten metre downwards, she blew the air out of her lungs, the palm of her hands in front of her. She closed her eyes, concentrating and soon felt the water around her spin softly. She opened her eyes and felt the urge to accept the call and let her powers take control, but she knew it was better for her not too. She looked up, seeing her friend's legs dangle on either side of her board, waiting for a good wave to come.  
  
~Here it goes,~ she thought, directing her palms upwards.  
  
The redhead felt the water beneath her move and a wave soon formed itself. She smiled, lowering herself on the board and starting to push herself towards it. She got up on her feet and followed the water's path, giving her a superb glide through the waves.  
  
The girl controlling the water was now back on her board, giving herself a gigantic strong wave that she took immediately.  
  
Both girls really seemed to enjoy themselves, until the American saw that her friend had mislead one of the waves and that a rather big one was coming straight at her. She panicked, but was too afraid to move as the gigantic wave got closer and closer. Fright activated her mutation and soon enough, the wave reached her level. She closed her eyes and waited for an impact that never came. Seconds passed and sensing that the wave was gone, she opened her eyes. The sea was calm.  
  
What she didn't see was that the wave had split in two when she hit contact with it. The part that had been supposed to hit her had evaporated in a cloud of vapour. Panting a little, she looked around, looking for her friend. She saw her board and the water manipulator not far behind, half of her head poking out of the water. But she wasn't the same anymore. Her body seemed . . . *made* of water.  
  
"Holly . . . your power . . . its . . ." the redhead whispered, hoping the people on the beach hadn't seen her friend yet.  
  
Holly disappeared under the water, only to come back out a few moments later, looking human.  
  
"I think we should leave," she said, seeing that a few of the other surfers and people on the beach were looking in their direction.  
  
The two girls swam to shore and carried their boards through the crowded beach they reached the parking lot, more precisely a white jeep. While Holly tied the boards in the back of their car, the redhead started to dry herself.  
  
What was strange was that she didn't use a towel. He simply stood there, her hair loosing its wetness just like her clothes did. Her power was obvious: she controlled the heat molecules in the ambient air.  
  
A phone rang inside the jeep. The American reached inside the vehicle and grabbed the phone.  
  
"Bliss speaking," she said. " . . . finally, we were wondering how long we needed to stay away . . . sure. We'll be there."  
  
She hung up and turned to Holly.  
  
"We're back in the game," she said.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
England, London . . .  
  
The sky was lightly clouded by white and greyish cotton-looking clouds and the wind was blowing hard, but the streets were dry, proving that it hadn't rained, and the sun, peeking between the clouds, proved that he wasn't intending to let bad temperature take over the city.  
  
In the middle of the city was a warehouse used as a circus school. Many boys and girls were there, being thought by adults. A group were learning how to juggle on large coloured tubes while wearing a clown costume, others were on the trampoline, but one boy was being given a personal class at the trapeze. A middle-aged woman was standing on the side, shouting him what to do.  
  
The boy in question looked nineteen, wasn't very tall or strong, but was slim and seemed extremely fast and agile. One of his 'particularities' was that he had wild blue hair.  
  
"Jump to the next bar!" the woman shouted, watching the boy obey immediately, swinging to the next pole.  
  
The lady smiled contently as the blue-haired teenager swung himself to the ground.  
  
"Perfect," she said. "We'll take off at forty five feet next time."  
  
She left the platform, leaving the boy alone to practice by himself. He sighed once she was gone, jumped up, leaned on a pole and reached the first trapeze, making it swing until he reached the next one, on which he jumped. He looked down at the ground, and smiled seeing it so far below.  
  
He didn't move, letting his weight balance him from side to side on the trapeze until he heard someone shouting his name from the ground, telling him there was someone on the phone at the reception for him. He thanked the boy and waited until no one was looking. He let go of the trapeze and fell to the floor, on his feet. He was obviously a mutant, to have landed untouched after jumping down fifteen metres.  
  
He walked to the reception, nodding at a few folks, and picked up the receiver that had been left on the table.  
  
"Hello?" He asked, this boy having an English accent in his voice.  
  
Like all the others who had received the call, he stayed silent, listening.  
  
"Did you call the others?" he asked after a while. "Did they accept? . . . Okay, I'll be there. Bye."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Calls went on all night, reaching people, mutants, all across the world. Some more were located in Europe, and the others across the U.S. The next day, they were all together in New York, ready to try to conclude their unfinished Business.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
All was silence in this room. Well, if it could be considered a room, because it was in fact more like a glasshouse. You couldn't see the inside from outside because of the type of glass that had been used, even if there was nothing much to see indoors. There was a desk and a chair, maybe a few stools on which tiny plants were growing, but besides that, there was nothing. This glasshouse was located on the top of a tall building, in the middle of New York, and thus was surrounded by other buildings, some much taller than the one it was standing on, and so it did not receive much light in the morning, or even during the whole day.  
  
A beautiful -well, gorgeous was more the word- woman was sitting in the chair, her feet leaning on the side of the desk, her stunning green eyes vaguely staring at the drops of water hitting the glass panel in front of her. Her brown hair was tied into a high ponytail and fell in light curls slightly under her shoulder blades. She was wearing a black trench coat under which was a leather cat suit and had on high-heeled boots, made of the same material. Her top had a low v-neck and her whole ensemble fitted her so perfectly, it could have been made to measure. Her pierced ears had silver hoops and a single chain was hanging around her neck. Her manicured nails were playing with it absentmindedly, but not even the faintest glimpse of a smile could be visible on her face.  
  
The man with white hair entered the room, but she didn't take her eyes off the glass and didn't pay any attention to anything else.  
  
"I'm pleasantly surprised not to find you in the lab again," he said, walking towards her.  
  
She didn't answer anything, still playing with what was around her neck, maybe slightly more violently at the man's mention.  
  
"It's time," the man continued, and this time, he was given a glance by the woman. "There all here and ready to move out. Come. We need to finish this."  
  
"Tell me, Alex," the woman finally said, after a long moment of silence. "If you were given a chance to erase everything wrong you've done in your life, would you take it?"  
  
The man didn't answer, he just looked at her.  
  
"Would you?" he asked, not expecting an answer. "If we could erase all that we'd done wrong, you know they'd be nothing left of our lives."  
  
She smiled, still looking at the rain.  
  
"Well then, lets go have some 'fun', and clear out our 'business'," she said, finally getting up from her seat, walking to the glass panel.  
  
Alex just stayed where he was, waiting. The woman let go of her chain, pressing both her hands on the cold glass where her reflection could be seen. For a moment, she stared at her reflection, before looking, into the glass, towards the man in the back of the room.  
  
"Yes, let's go," she said making a step backwards.  
  
The man walked out as she turned around, watching him leave before turning towards her reflection again, looking at her face. She passed her fingers on her eyes' reflection, sighing deeply. She closed her eyes for a moment, and reopened them. Now, instead of being green, they were violet, a crazy shade of amethyst.  
  
Growling in an inhuman way, she made a step back, turning to walk towards the exit, holding her chain one last time. Letting it go, she made it visible to see that hanging on the end of the chain was a single dog tag. Written on it were a serial number and a name. A codename, signifying what she was, an alias, given to her by her mutation, a pseudonym she had been given long ago: Foe.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
YES. The guy in London and Bliss, the redhead girl in Spain are two of the tree teenagers that were spying on Nate in chap 40.  
  
Foe is a part of myself, no touchy to her. All the others (*sees Stan Lee poking his head at the door with his baseball bat*) euh, except Gambit, are mine. That means the anonymous guy, Darren, Charlie, Coral, Holly, Bliss, the guy with blue hair and Alexander. 


	4. Murderers in Town

I'M BACK! FINALLY! Gee . . . it's been a very long time . . . my internet broke down at the beginning of August, I went back to school on August 26, found myself being stuck in the dumbest class ever, separated from all my friends and stuck with bizarre teachers with severe personality disorders. I keep setting my classmates in stereotypes and giving them labels after I see how they're like. I all hate them apart from for a few exceptions I've placed in the 'respectable group', and most of them think I'm antisocial because I keep glaring at all of them (mweheheh). They all listen to Sean Paul, and I'm the only one who knows what Good Charlotte is. THAT is how big the character gap is. They're driving me to depression. -_-  
  
That brought me down a little. I was bombarded with orals, biology reports and French papers on the first week of September and I couldn't update from school because we aren't allowed to bring disks anymore because of viruses (*grrr . . .*).  
  
^_^  
  
Scary_little_goth_kid: thank you, thank you very much . . . -_^  
  
justandalwaysMo: So I'm finally back . . . I'm probably going to update my other stories soon too . . . thanks for your support!  
  
Tigereyes9: I'm back. ^_^ we should start an international group for fanfiction authors that go on fanfiction at school but that aren't really supposed to . . . mueheheheh. It would work.  
  
Cassie3000: thanks for reading! And I'm going to try to update A Mutant's Nightmare too . . .  
  
Chaos Insues: Hello there! I'm sorry to say, but Nathan is unfortunately not going to appear for a while. You'll understand why later on.  
  
Lily: Hello! I'm still reading your story but I haven't had any time to review, but I will!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 4: Murderers In Town  
  
Scott stormed inside the mansion, holding the school mail in one hand, a newspaper in the other. He looked incredibly pissed. His visor was bright red, and it looked like he was dieing to use it on something.  
  
He walked towards the kitchen, passed a couple of students and continued his way towards the dining room. The X-Men were taking their breakfast there, and since it was a Saturday morning, most of them were still in their pyjamas.  
  
"So, Professor, did you get any news of Magneto's location?" Rogue asked, taking a bite of her toats as she turned around seeing Scott pass the table, marching firmly towards Xavier.  
  
"No. I still can't contact him with Cerebro because of his helmet," the professor said, taking a sip of coffee. "What is it, Scott?"  
  
Cyclops sighed and threw the newspaper in the middle of the table before sitting down. A few people moved to see what was the main title: 'Beware: the New York murderers are back!'  
  
"They've done it again!" Scott grumbled.  
  
The professor took the paper and read aloud:  
  
" . . . Another human murdered. Officials have proven that Richard Vicer was killed last night after what seemed to be a long and merciless manhunt through the back alleys of New York. Seeing by the way he was murdered, there is no evident proof that the murderers were mutants, though many think that they were, seeing the incredible diversity of the torture that was used . . . Police say Mr Vicer was greatly tormented before being killed, his neck pierced from side to side, braking his neck bone. His body held marks made by claws, electrocution and very thin wires thought to be made by metal. He also had internal damage done in a way only seen on the other five murdered people found these past two months."  
  
There was a picture underneath the article, showing apart of the alley where the body was found. The professor stayed quiet for a moment, lost in thought.  
  
"Shouldn't we do something about all of this?" Ororo asked, looking at the professor. "Humanity is going to think that mutants are fighting back and they'll bring up the regulation program again."  
  
"Let me think about it first," the professor answered after a while. "Give me some time."  
  
"Do you mind us asking why?" Rogue asked stubbornly.  
  
"Because I think I know who is doing this, and if it is, we are not going to stop these people now," the professor said quickly.  
  
"And who is are these people?" Scott asked.  
  
"I wont tell until I am sure it is them," the professor answered. "I don't want all of you to get in trouble."  
  
There was a moment of silence before everyone went back to their occupations, except for Scott, who read the article again, upset the professor wouldn't tell him anything.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Mystique knocked on the door, waiting somewhat impatiently for it to open. Magneto was standing behind her, on the white marble steps leading to the door, and the two boys were further behind.  
  
Pyro looked behind him again, verifying that they weren't being followed. To the looks of it, they were definitely in New York, but they couldn't be very more precise than that. They were in the city, surrounded by taller buildings, and there were thousands of people, humans, walking around. The door in front of which they were standing was very, very big. It was actually a gate, made out of metal, behind which we could see a gigantic front yard. The building was further behind, very tall and very impressive.  
  
Magneto looked closer at the gate. It was made of iron, and was pretty simple, yet elegant. It was forming an archway, the metal bars ending in spikes at the top. The lock was formed by a pair of two angel-like wings.  
  
Magneto waited, not wanting to use his power to get in.  
  
Not too long after, a young girl, probably around the age of six arrived at the door. She had a mix of light brown and dark blond hair tied in a high ponytail, blue eyes and a freckled nose. She had fair skin, was wearing a red summer dress reaching her below the knee, a white vest and white sandals.  
  
"Yes?" she asked, making no sign that he was going to open the gate as she held her hands behind her back.  
  
"We are here to see Sin, please," Magneto said. "You must know him."  
  
"Yes I do, but why do you want to see him?" the little girl asked.  
  
"To talk to him about something important," Magneto said, in a calmness that surprised both Mystique and the two boys.  
  
The little girl looked unconvinced.  
  
"I need to see him to talk to him about people I would like him to meet," Magneto continued. "If you're so unsure of opening the gate, go get an adult, child."  
  
The little girl smiled widely, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. She closed them for a moment, and everyone behind he gate could just stare. The little girl grew in front of them, becoming a pretty woman, probably around the age of twenty-seven or twenty-eight. She had the exact same face, the same eyes, hair and freckled nose. Her clothing had somewhat changed and she was now wearing a red mini-skirt and top. Her white vest arrived to her knees and her sandals were now high-heeled. Her hair was loose too.  
  
"I'm surprised to see you here, Erik," she said.  
  
"Same for me, Coral," Magneto said. "Would you let us in?"  
  
"I'm surprised to see the gate is still standing," Coral continued, walking to the gate and unlocking it with a card. "Hi, Mystique."  
  
"Hello, Coral," Mystique said to her friend. "Long time no see."  
  
"Yep. But I see you were all quite busy with the Liberty Incident and that Alkali Lake Base problem."  
  
Magneto, who had now penetrated the grounds, turned to her violently.  
  
"How do you know about that already?" he asked quickly.  
  
"We have ways of knowing, Erik. You know it," Coral said. "This way."  
  
They all followed Coral inside the building.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
This home was a large loft, the exterior walls being completely made of glass, to be able to see the exterior world. Again, like the glasshouse, it was located in a tall building and you could only see through the glass from the interior. The floor was made of wood, and the walls were plain white, punctuated by framed black and white pictures in black frames. The furniture was modern, the tables made of glass or white wood, and the rest of the furnishings, such as the sofas in the living room, were made of black leather. In the kitchen, the counters were of black marble and the stove and fridge, like the other kitchen equipments, were of metal. Shelves were placed here and there, where books, CDs, magazines and papers were properly piled up. There were, like in the small apartment, potted plants, mostly vines, on higher shelves, their leaves and branches almost touching the ground.  
  
In another room, there was some basic equipment for working out, right next to the bathroom. Like the rest of the house, it was modern, clean and cool. The next room was mainly occupied by a large bed above which was a magnificent painting that was obviously not a copy.  
  
The sound of a cell phone was heard, and someone in the bed squirmed, and grabbed it on the bedside table.  
  
Again, this person was the man from the other apartment, the one with the white hair.  
  
"Y 'ello?" he said lazily into the receiver.  
  
"Good morning, Mr. Crown," a female voice said, visibly belonging to an old woman. "This is Miss Faswell speaking."  
  
"Oh, hello Jo," Alexander said, leaning into his pillow.  
  
"Your associate, Mr. Garcia, was wondering if you were coming in today, sir," Miss Faswell said seriously.  
  
"Well . . . I'll be coming in this afternoon," he said. "Tell him to set up the Monet meeting for Monday, please, and could you please arrange a conference with the museum's renaissance section guys? I need it to be at least next week."  
  
"Yes sir, I'll call them right away."  
  
"Perfect," Alex said. "So I'll be at the office this afternoon. Bye."  
  
And with that he hung up.  
  
He placed the cell on the night table again, and was about to go back to sleep when it rang again. Sighing deeply, he grabbed the phone and pressed on a button.  
  
"Hello?" he asked again, slightly annoyed to be bothered again.  
  
"Hi, Alex," another feminine voice said, this one sounding about his age. "Lïka speaking."  
  
"Lïka! We were working last night! Can't you let me sleep in peace?"  
  
"I know, I know . . . It's already on the news and in the papers. Just calling to remind you that you're babysitting some of the kids on Saturday," Lïka said.  
  
"Oh . . . thanks," he said. "I'll pick 'em up around ten, 'kay?"  
  
"Sure, just don't be late," Lïka said, hanging up.  
  
"Yeah, bye," Alexander said into the receiver that was already beeping because of the disconnection.  
  
Throwing the cell back onto the table again, after verifying the time that was eleven thirty, he turned back into his bed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Scott opened the school's door, walking back inside. He looked calm, something very rare that could be seen since the Alkali Lake Incident, but no one was there to see it, since the students were out somewhere with Storm and Logan, and the Professor was locked in his office, talking to someone he had found to replace Jean's place as doctor of the school. This doctor was a certain Henry McCoy. Scott had only got a glimpse of him, and there was no one to contradict that that mutant was quite impressive. He was huge, and covered by thick blue fur from head to toe. He didn't give a very good first impression to anyone, but he was said to be very nice. Well, that was what the students were saying.  
  
Scott heard the phone ring, and he walked to it calmly, picking up the receiver.  
  
"Xavier's school for the Gifted, how may I help you?" he said, ever so normally.  
  
At the sound of the voice on the other end, Scott became as white as a sheet and his heart truly stopped beating.  
  
"Scott? Scott, is that you? . . . it's me . . . Jean."  
  
Before anything else could be said, Scott had dropped the phone and had fallen to the floor, out cold.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
You'll be hearing of me soon . . . I promise! Three days max, unless something big stops me! 


	5. Mistake of the Mind's Eye and an Afterno...

Hello again, readers!  
  
You all HAVE to go see the movie 'Underworld'. You HAVE TO! Besides the fact that it is now V.I.M. (very important movie) list, at the end, the cute guy (who becomes a werewolf) looks TOTALLY like Nightcrawler AND Wolvie combined together . . . 0_0 without a shirt!!! It's completely magical... hunky blue hottie with fangs! And I fell in love with Kate Beckinsale's leather suits... ^_^  
  
Tigereyes9: At my school too they have codes and you have to be watched all the time... the 'computer lab guard' stopped me at least 43 times asking me if what I was doing (reviewing) was not some sort of chat device... -_- but hey! If you want to read stories, copy the text and read if off Microsoft word... it's what I do... I tell them I'm working on a very important research about human evolution... mweheheh.  
  
Lily: Who stole the BOOK??? How could you loose all those chapters??? (*sobbs and runs away*)  
  
justandalwaysMo: Your reviews always cheer me up ^_^ Thanks for encouraging me!  
  
EvoJean: Thank U! And don't worry, I really don't want to stop this story! In fact, this is sort of the first X-Men story I created (in my head, that is), so I really want to put it onto paper. ^_^  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 5: Mistake of the mind's eye and an afternoon off  
  
Walking down one of the New Yorkan streets, Alexander Crown, properly dressed up in a black suite with tie, briefcase in hand, looked like any other business man . . . except for his platinum hair.  
  
He walked up to one of the buildings, to the one in front of which was a tall statue. The statue didn't really represent something, because it was modern art, but there was something interesting to see on the base. A large metal plate with gold writing spelling the name of the company: 'Crown Enterprises'. So the man was also a businessman.  
  
Alexander walked to the door, nodding to a few people, as a porter in uniform held the door open for him. Inside like outside, the building was very clean and modern. It was a big building, and on the first floor, there were only sofas, staircases and elevators, and a very, very large desk behind which was sitting a woman, ready to help those who needed it.  
  
Alexander walked to one of the elevators, passing a metal tag in a slot to open the door. Inside the elevator, he pressed the button of the last floor, and waited for the doors to open.  
  
The floor on which he arrived was much nicer than down in the lobby: The floor was carpeted, the walls were plain white, and nothing were on them. On the other hand, there were gigantic admirably coloured canvas hanging from the extremely high ceiling, some of modern art, others looking like Monets or what you were supposed to see in the Sixtine chapel. The walls facing the exterior of the building were gigantic windows, from which we could see a great part of Manhattan. It was magnificent.  
  
Alexander saluted other coworkers, walking down the aisle of desks where people were working until he reached the last desk behind which a woman of old age was sitting, picking up the phone and scribbling things down. She saw him coming and put her hand on the receiver, asking the person on the other end to hold on for just a second.  
  
"Good afternoon, miss Faswell," Alexander said politely, walking towards a pair of large polished doors.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Crown, the papers on the Suburban project is on your desk and miss Skye told me to tell you that she was going to pass by in late afternoon," the lady said. "Should I free your schedule?"  
  
"Yes please," he answered. "And tell Garcia I'm expecting him in my office in fifteen minutes."  
  
"Yes, sir," she said, as he closed his door and she returned to her call.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Magneto walked out of the building, followed by Mystique, Pyro and Hooligan, and the woman going by the name of Coral. He seemed very pleased about the conversation he had just had. Coral walked up to him, a smile on her face.  
  
"And so, are we going to hear from you soon?" she asked.  
  
"In a week or two," Erik answered. "When the Brotherhood will be complete."  
  
"Then there are more joining?" Coral asked, as Magneto nodded in answer.  
  
"Well . . . see ya soon," she said, turning around and transforming into a little girl as she walked back to the building.  
  
"Now where do we go?" Mystique asked, catching up with her leader.  
  
"The airport," he said, looking straight in front of him. "We'll take the car."  
  
They walked pass the gates, to a black Mercedes, as Mystique transformed into a driver in uniform. Magneto sat in the passenger seat while the two other boys sat behind. Mystique drove, of course.  
  
"So who are we going to go get?" Pyro asked, playing with his lighter. "When does the action start?"  
  
"We are going to go get . . . a relative of mine," Magneto said calmly. "The 'action', as you say, is coming sooner than you think."  
  
"Good," John said, leaning in his seat, giving Hooligan only a glance. The boy sitting next to him had a smirk on his face.  
  
"Yep," he said. "The war is coming."  
  
Magneto smiled in approval.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Scott woke up, feeling a wet cloth on his forehead. He brought his hand to his face and checked that he had his visor on before opening his eyes. He saw a blue face staring down at him, and instinctively made a movement backwards.  
  
"Relax Scott, this is Hank," he heard a familiar voice say.  
  
Scott calmed down, as he recognized the blue man. He gave himself a memo to tell him never to stand above someone when they were waking up in the med lab because it was just freaky, and some might react badly by using their powers, like he was just about to.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hank said to Scott. "I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
Scott had a moment of silence, wondering what he was doing in the med lab. He soon remembered.  
  
"JEAN!" he yelled, jumping to the ground but being held back by Hank's strong arms. "She's alive! She's alive! Let me go!"  
  
"Scott, calm down please," the professor said, wheeling forwards.  
  
"She's alive professor! She called!" Scott yelled desperately.  
  
Charles Xavier sighed deeply, looking saddened.  
  
"Hank, would you mind leaving us alone for a moment?" he said, grief dripping on each of his words.  
  
The blue man muttered a 'yes professor' and walked out slowly, giving Scott an intrigued look before closing the door. There was a long silence.  
  
"You don't believe me," Scott said, anger flashing in his visor. "Well then look in my mind, see that it's true."  
  
"Scott . . ." the professor started. "I already did. What you heard was your imagination . . . I, like you, want Jean back, but you must get over it, Scott. She's dead."  
  
Scott looked down at the floor, the professor's words having hit him harder than anything before.  
  
"You must remember the proposition I gave you a few weeks ago, Scott," the professor said as the X-Men's fearless leader suddenly crumbled up in mercy. "And I think that it would be for the best that I'd erase your memory of her."  
  
"No . . . please no," Scott whimpered.  
  
"I think it would be for the best, but I won't do it without your authorization," the professor continued. "But I want you to start thinking of it seriously . . ."  
  
Scott nodded and turned to the exit. He walked slowly to the door, sensing the professor's eyes on him. He opened the door and turned to him before walking out.  
  
"She's alive," he murmured. "It wasn't my imagination . . . I don't believe it."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sitting at his desk, Alexander was tapping on a black portable computer, his back to the large windows of his luxurious office. Concentrating in his work, there were piles of papers and folders on both of his sides and pictures of art pieces laid out in front of him.  
  
His phone rang feebly and he pressed on a button as miss Faswell's voice was heard.  
  
"Miss Skye and miss Sinclair to see you, sir," she said in her usual calm voice.  
  
"Send them in," Alexander said after pressing another button.  
  
A few moments later, two women barged into the office, swinging the two polished doors open as they entered, and closing them as swiftly after having passed.  
  
The first one was of medium height, had thick pale blond hair tied into a high ponytail, and it fell in her back like a cascade of snow on which the sun shone bright. She had rather pale fair skin, blue eyes and a large smile plastered on her cherry lips. She seemed to be in her late twenties, early thirties, was wearing a pair of blue jeans, high-heeled sandals and spaghetti-strapped white top. A vest was sloppily tied around her waist and a pair of black sunglasses was on top of her head. For jewellery, she had a couple of bracelets on one arm, a single gold chain, earrings and a gold wedding ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.  
  
The second woman was taller than the first one, yet smaller than Alexander. She had straight black hair reaching the middle of her back, let loose and simply held back from her face by sunglasses. She had black eyes, a faint touch of mascara rendering them even more intriguing. Her skin was pale and she had blood red lipstick on. For ornaments she had simple earrings and a silver chain with a cross. Unlike the first woman, she was holding a purse under her arm. Form fitting pants and three quarter long sleeved v-necked top, matching with high-heeled sandals were what she was wearing, and since all of these articles of clothing were black, she looked more than a little like a classic gothic splendour.  
  
The first woman waved energetically and hopped towards Alexander, looking extremely happy to see him again, but the second lady simply smiled. Alexander rose from his seat to receive the first lady in his arms.  
  
"Hey, L?ka," he said, unable to stop smiling in front of her happiness.  
  
The woman let go of him.  
  
"Now you're inviting us to a middle of the afternoon bite," she said, incredibly sure of herself. "I need to talk to you about stuff, so tell miss Fatswell or Fartswell that you're gone for the rest of the afternoon."  
  
Alexander sighed and turned to the other woman who had stayed a little in the back.  
  
"Hi, Amber," he said, giving her a smile that she returned with a nod. "How are you doing?"  
  
"Very well, and you?" Amber said, a little undefined accent rolling off her tongue.  
  
"Fine, fine," he answered, seeing L?ka looking at his work. "Okay, so let's get out of here," he added, walking to the door followed by the two women.  
  
Alexander told his secretary that he was taking the rest of the day off (again), and left with Amber and L?ka, who he seemed to know very well. They didn't need to take his car as they just decided to walk around talking and eat in an outdoor snack bar they liked, which was giving a beautiful view of Central Park. Sitting under a large umbrella, sipping fresh daiquiris, Amber and Alex only half listening to L?ka as she started talking about her trip to Canada, from which she had just come back. She was talking away about the beautiful nature and animals when suddenly, the conversation became rather more interesting.  
  
"And so before the whole team arrived, I started inspecting the ruins of the base when suddenly, I walk through this sort of door and come face to face with . . . someone," L?ka said mysteriously, trying to captivate her audience by changing tone and gesturing a little. "I panicked, wondering if he was a hunter and that I should do best to transform into myself again in order not to get shot; or even worst, I thought he could maybe be one of those government guys, but I didn't move or attack, and thank God that I did because it was then I realized that he didn't have hostile intentions . . . The guy in front of me, - hot, if you ask me, Amber-, looked totally lost . . . I mean, not 'lost' but simply troubled or something, he just looked at me for a while and it was then it clicked, and I knew I had seen his face before. I was dieing to transform back into myself and ask him, but something held me back, and so I just walked away, and the second I was out of his sight, I ran away."  
  
"Who did he look like?" Amber asked, moving her straw around in her glass.  
  
"You're going to find this totally crazy, but I think he was the Wolverine," she said, stopping to take a sip from her drink.  
  
"Impossible," Alex objected, leaning back in his seat.  
  
"I too think it impossible for that man to still be alive," Amber noted.  
  
"And I think you shouldn't go tell this story to anyone else," Alexander continued. "I mean, certainly not Foe. Everything's going so well, even on our jobs here."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Lïka said slowly. "But I really think it was him."  
  
"I can't believe you're saying that when you've never even seen him before," Amber mocked.  
  
"I recognized him from a picture I saw of him a long time ago," Lïka said defensively. "He wasn't the same but I did recognize him."  
  
"But still, I repeat to you that it would be better if this stayed between us," Alexander continued seriously. "Foe and Lou shouldn't know. The same for the rest of the group. It wouldn't be good if they did."  
  
"Yes, yes, I know," Lïka said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.  
  
They finished their drinks, said good bye and headed their separate ways, knowing that they were going to see each other soon enough, reunited by of their unfinished business.  
  
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You know the drill . . . you read, you review, you read some more you review again, you read some more again and are too sick of reviewing but still do it because poor little ol' author has nothin' better to do than see what people think of her writing. And unfortunately that wasn't sarcastic, you know. -_- 


	6. New Recruits, an Invitation and Criminal...

Lily: Thanks!  
  
justandalwaysMo: Inspiration filled time . . . yep, I do have some. The only problem is that I need to find even more time to write it all down, and *that*'s hard to find these days ^_^  
  
Cassie3000: I miss Nathan too!!! And I feel guilty because I'm making something really bad happen to him!!! But I'm trying to make him show up soon. And you're from Quebec city? Do you live there? And thanks for your advice ^_^  
  
Jean Grey/Phoenix: Why, of course I am ^_^ This story is going to be pretty long. I hope you like it!  
  
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Chapter 6: New Recruits, an invitation and criminals in meeting  
  
Magneto was sitting behind a desk, in what was probably another of his hideouts. Mystique sat in a chair in front of him, looking at her nails absentmindedly, Pyro was flicking his lighter on her left, and Hooligan, the boy who could control the X-Gene in one's body, was sitting in the back, near the wall, doing nothing in particular. All were waiting for their two new recruits to join them. Both of them were still in their rooms, resting. The first, a medium sized woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length chestnut coloured hair and icy blue eyes, wearing discrete glasses and a matching beige ensemble, had arrived from Europe at the airport the previous day. All the members of the Brotherhood only knew that her name was Laurana and that she was somehow related to Magneto. Nothing else had been revealed to them about her, but they were expecting to know more soon, since she was joining the Brotherhood.  
  
Their second recruit had arrived in the wee hours of the morning, had entered thanks to Magneto's order, had barely given a glare at the other members and had climbed up the stairs to his room to rest because of his long trip. They had recognized him as the boy they had visited not too long ago. Magneto hadn't even announced them his arrival, yet he seemed very pleased to have him with him.  
  
They didn't wait long before the door opened and both recruits marched in, without even looking at each other. Both looked like they thought themselves superior than all the other members of the Brotherhood, and after a while, it got annoying.  
  
It was the first time they all clearly got to see the boy who had arrived in the morning: he was rather tall and thin, didn't look very strong, but looked incredibly sure of himself. He had blond hair, falling across his forehead in a bedridden fashion. He had a couple of earrings, but no other jewellery. He was wearing brown pants, a white shirt and a vest that matched his pants. His hands in his pockets, he just looked at Magneto, ignoring the others for now.  
  
Laurana did the same at first, before sitting down next to Mystique and taking a look at the two other boys that had taken the opportunity to get closer. The last boy, on the other hand, just stood there, waiting for Magneto to speak.  
  
"Good evening, brothers," he said slowly, eyeing them all one after the other. "I'd like you all to meet two new members of the brotherhood. For first, my daughter, Laurana, recently returned from Europe. She, like me, controls magnetic fields and any form of metal. Her power hasn't attained my level of control and power, but she is still very good."  
  
Laurana smiled weakly at all of them, and all noticed the similarities she held from their leader: the same pride and self-esteem. Mystique saluted her coldly with a small nod, and she did the same.  
  
"And last, but not least, this is Sin, capable of controlling people's inhalation, and so able to make people choke by the simple thought of it," he said calmly, designating the last boy who hadn't moved at all.  
  
He nodded towards no one in particular, vaguely glimpsing at his new allies.  
  
"Now, it's time to arrange our attack," Magneto said proudly, rising from his seat.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Here you go professor," Scott said, handing him a couple of envelops from the mail before walking to his place.  
  
He sat down and started eating, barely interested in knowing what the letters were about. He heard the professor tear it open and pull out a sheet of paper, on which was an imprinted text in loopy writing. The professor frowned.  
  
"What is it, professor?" Storm asked, seeing him pocket the letter.  
  
"Nothing," he said vaguely. "An invitation."  
  
"To what?" Bobby asked.  
  
"A bal."  
  
"A bal?" Rogue repeated, visibly interested.  
  
"Oh, not just any bal, my dear," the professor said, seeing that she wanted to be informed. "This bal is . . . somewhat special. It's for people like us."  
  
All waited eagerly for him to continue, having never heard about such a thing before.  
  
"It's a reunion for mutants of 'high class'," he said finally. "Mutants with political power are invited, and there they get to meet more mutants. You see, more and more of us are getting scared about the humans' revolts, and they don't know who to turn to when they need help. This bal is like a reunion where they get to meet more of their kind . . . it's actually a social event divided in two or three parties."  
  
"Can we go?" Bobby asked slowly.  
  
"I wasn't intending to," the professor said, sipping his coffee.  
  
"Why?" Ororo asked.  
  
"Because I'm not in very good terms with some of the people who will be coming," he said. "We don't have the same respect for the human race, and definitely not the same ideas about the whole mutant problem."  
  
"But if you don't go, they'll know it's because of them, won't they?" Rogue said slowly, trying to invent a reason for him to go, and be accompanied by the X-Men. "That wouldn't be very good for your reputation, and plus, we'll go with you to stand up for you. And we could meet more mutants to join the school, maybe."  
  
The professor smiled.  
  
"Yes, I know, Rogue," he said. "But you don't know yet how it is in these sort of parties. They always end in very terrible fights because of youngsters and even adults showing off their powers between their 'gangs'. But I'll think of it," he said, drinking his coffee again. "The party is in three weeks so I have time to give it some thought," he added, closing the subject.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Darkness had swept over New York again as a cold summer night swathed anyone out of light, out of their homes, rendering them both enemies and allies not to be trusted in any way. It was a night when all stayed at home, knowing that something was going to happen.  
  
Perched on top of a medium height building, inside the glasshouse previously encountered, men and women, all being different in their own way, stood or sat in silence around a large black table, waiting for who knows what to happen. None of them seemed impatient or bored, they just seemed to be waiting for something, probably someone to speak.  
  
Leaning near the exit, on the only wall not made of glass, there was a thin, Italian-looking man, probably in his late forties, yet looking in very good health for his age. His skin was tanned and visibly taken care of. His pitch-black hair, which held no trace of growing age was slicked backwards, and his cheeks were lightly sunken in. His thin moustache and hawk-like piercing eyes were black, just like his clothes, consisting of a black shirt, a knee-length leather vest, black pants and shinny Gucci shoes. Around his wrist could be seen a gold Rolex, and on his little finger, a gold ring on which was engraved a crest, probably belonging to his family.  
  
Midway to the table, there was Amber, looking ever so gothic. Her black hair was tied into half a ponytail thanks to a hairclip, and she was wearing the same type of makeup that she wore most of the time. Her clothes, black as always, were loose and floated on her very nicely. Her vest was on one of the chairs around the table.  
  
On the table's right side, there was the woman going by the name of Coral, having black sunglasses on the top of her head and wearing a blue, knee length dress with matching shoes and a black vest. Next to her was L?ka, wearing a matching blood red three quarter sleeved top and leather pants, high-heeled red shoes and vest. Next to her, holding her hand was her husband, a man in his mid thirties with grey eyes and brown hair, who obviously hadn't shaved in a few days. He seemed strong, confident and trusting. He was wearing dark-blue jeans, a sleeveless black top and had a stylish gold sun for tattoo on his elbow.  
  
Alexander was sitting in front of him, leaning in his chair and looking at nothing in particular out the window. Like his last visit, everything he was wearing was black, and so that counted pants, shirt, army boots and trench coat. He ruffled his hair and glanced at the boy sitting at his right, in front of L?ka. It was the agile boy from London with blue dyed hair. His clothes were all baggy, probably because he wanted clothes he could move well in. He had brown pants, a dark blue long-sleeved shirt, a vest and big mountain shoes. His feet were leaning on the side of the table and he was playing distractedly with a piece of string, twisting it between his fingers without touching it with his available hand.  
  
On Alexander's other side was the teenager from the south of France, who must have been somewhat important since he was sitting the closest to the end of the table. He wasn't facing the others, the back of his chair turned towards them as he simply looked outside, probably thinking about something. He was good looking with his dark back hair, not really combed properly. A few earrings in extra, he maybe had a tattoo, but the odds were that he didn't. His clothes, like many of the others in the room, were also black, starting by his boots, passing by his shirt and baggy pants, and finishing with his cloak.  
  
The last person was at the other end of the room, sitting in a large armchair facing the window. It was Foe again. She was the only one of the group that looked bored, but not of the situation of just being there, more about being generally bored about everything. Sitting cross-legged, her hand vaguely holding her cheek while her other hand, falling limply on the side of the furniture, was holding a bottle of scotch that already had been half gulped down, even though she still looked very sober.  
  
The silence stayed in the room for another five minutes, occasionally broken by the sound of the scotch moving around the bottle before being drunk. Besides that, nothing was heard until the door opened violently and the redhead teenage girl nicknamed Bliss appeared in the entrance, holding a file of papers in her hands. The Italian man, startled by this sudden entrance, turned around violently, his hand sliding to his side, to his holster, but recognizing the newcomer, he let go of his gun. The girl rolled her eyes and walked to the table, on which she placed the papers.  
  
Her dark red hair was tied into an elegant chignon, keeping two bangs on either side of her face and she was wearing bellbottomed jeans and a blue tank top. She smiled and walked back out seeing that she wasn't needed. The door closed behind her and it is only then that Alexander grabbed the file and dragged it up to him. Amber walked to her seat, as did the Italian man. Now only one chair was left unattended, and it was the one next to L?ka's husband.  
  
Alexander opened the folder and took out the first sheet of paper.  
  
"It's already all over the news," he said, breaking the silence. "But they have no suspects, which is somewhat good. We don't need to lie low this time. What we need to worry about know is that our next target might get the message and flee . . . And the news on the street is that Spite is back in town."  
  
Foe shuddered, but didn't say anything.  
  
"Does Magneto have something to do with this?" Amber asked. "Is Spite joining him?"  
  
"No," Alexander answered. "The Brotherhood would never take in someone like him. They're not that desperate. And Spite is not the type to join other mutants, since he hates them. He's more the type to work for the government, against all of us."  
  
"Why can't we just get rid of him?" Coral asked, seeing it as the best solution.  
  
"Oh, we tried," William, the boy from London said. "But he's very strong, and our powers are useless with him, you know that."  
  
"Is someone keeping an eye on our target?" Foe asked, changing the subject. "And on Xavier's people?"  
  
"I am," L?ka's husband said. "The next on the list is staying on government propriety and we can't have a clean shot yet. We need to wait until he gets out into the city."  
  
"And for Xavier's people, Prowler?" Foe continued, turning her chair a little to see everyone sitting at the table.  
  
"I think he only has a small clue that it's our work," L?ka's husband, Prowler, said. "Lets just hope it stays like that until it's over."  
  
"And for the party, who's going?" Alexander asked. "We can't *not* go."  
  
"I'll go," the boy from Monaco said, turning his chair. "Gambit and Will agreed to come with me, but I'm still looking for more to come. I think Bliss is up for it too."  
  
"Alex, can you go with them?" Foe asked.  
  
Alexander made a face.  
  
"You're sure? I thought you were going," he said. "What if Xavier goes? I don't want to see him, I might get the urge to kill him on the spot. I don't have your self-control."  
  
Foe smiled weakly at her friend's fuming face.  
  
"I need someone to keep an eye on the kids," she said, and Alex nodded in submission. "Antonio, you can check on the kids back home," she continued, more giving an order than asking a question to the Italian man who rose from his seat and walked towards the door after having saluted everyone.  
  
He closed the door and soon enough, the girl who had brought in the papers came back in and sat in his chair, sighing and eyeing each of the other mutants.  
  
"Now," Foe said, eyeing everyone as she turned her chair completely. "I won't be able to go with you on the next job, because I need to work again. I'm giving this one to you," she said, designating the young mutants sitting around the table. "Bliss, Hyper and Sly, this one is for you. Don't mess it up, I'm counting on all three of you."  
  
The girl with red hair rose from her seat, followed by William, and then the empty chair on Prowler's right side moved and someone evidently rose, most probably being Sly, a mutant capable of invisibility. All three walked out the room, and it was then the last teen in the room, the one from Monaco, turned to Foe with some sort of mischievous look on his face. She smiled at him.  
  
"Watch them," she said to him, making him smirk as he rose at his turn, slowly walking to the door.  
  
Soon enough, the others left together, L?ka and Prowler going their way, Amber and Coral most probably leaving on a girl's night out. The last one there was Alexander, and he didn't look too happy. Foe didn't say anything to him, turning around towards the window, her bottle in one hand.  
  
He rose from his seat and walked towards her seat, crouching at her level. She still didn't turn towards him or say anything. Finally, he took her chin in his hand and turned her head towards him.  
  
"Why are you doing this to yourself?" he asked, deep concern visible on his face.  
  
She looked down, her eyes starting to water, and yet she smiled.  
  
"Why do you lock yourself in that lab nearly twenty-four seven? You don't even spend time with your son anymore," he said agitatedly. "You keep sending him on those night chases, or making him watch out for the other young ones like you just did tonight."  
  
"Alex, I'm so sure I'm going to be able to keep Lily alive," she said, trying to stop a few tears from escaping her eyes and gliding down her cheeks. "I don't want to loose her. I know I'm not taking enough time to stay with my boy, but I'm so close to bringing her back that I can't concentrate on anything else."  
  
"Foe . . ." Alex said, brushing a stray tear from her face. " . . . I'm sorry to tell you this but . . . you just don't realize . . . you've been saying you've been close for more than a decade . . . I think you're just wasting your life in trying to save Lily."  
  
Foe frowned, staring angrily at him, pushing him away as she got up.  
  
"Go, Alex," she said sadly, trying to contain her anger as she walked to the windows. "I want to be left alone."  
  
Alexander sighed, got up and walked to the door, left ajar. He found Prowler waiting on the other side. He had evidently heard the conversation, and there was a sad look on his face.  
  
"I didn't know . . ." he started, brutally interrupted by Alex.  
  
"Don't talk," he simply said, walking towards the stairs, followed by Prowler.  
  
They walked in silence through the hall, walking up to the street and just about they were going to go their separate ways, Prowler turned around.  
  
"See ya in a few days, pal," muttered Alexander without looking at him.  
  
"Shock, wait . . . who's Lily?" he asked, unsure that he would be answered.  
  
Alexander turned around, looking at him sternly, yet sadly.  
  
"Foe's daughter," he said sorrowfully before turning around and starting to walk away.  
  
Somehow, Prowler knew he was best to keep this information to himself.  
  
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Well, Laurana's not very important . . .  
  
Sin is just the materialisation of my pnigophobia (fear of choking) that was given to me thanks to severe asthma when I was young. I'm also I bit claustrophobic, but that was because I was stuck on my stomach in a 2 by 6 feet ice cave two years ago, wasn't able to get out and was starting to miss air... but that's another episode of my fascinating life. ^_^  
  
I know it might be annoying not knowing too much about the new characters, but you'll understand soon. I'm going to put up a chart with info about them one day.  
  
Hum . . . my birthday is coming up in a couple of days ^_^ . . . can you guess how old I'm turning? 


	7. Diffident Meeting and Hostile Encounter

October 10th! My birthday! I just turned 15! I bet I fooled some of you!! ^_^  
  
Thanks for your reviews, everybody!  
  
I love this chapter! And I hope you'll like it too! ^_^  
  
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Chapter 7: Diffident Meeting and Hostile Encounter  
  
Alexander was in his modern apartment, the one that was mostly in order. He was sleeping again, even though it was approaching noon, and seemed to have spent the night outside. It had obviously rained during the night since his trench coat, boots and other articles of clothing that he had previously worn, were all drenched in water.  
  
Waking up slowly, he stretched under the covers, glad to have woken by himself, without the aid of a phone or an alarm clock to disturb him. He rose, tossing the covers aside and walked in his boxers up to the kitchen, and, without doing anything, turned on the coffee machine that immediately started pouring the liquid in a cup below. The shades that had been covering all the windows rose to the buzz of the electric machine that controlled them, and light finally spread though the loft. Alex yawned, walking to the main door that he opened after having flicked open all the locks. He found a bottle of milk, a newspaper and a few envelopes on his doorstep. Bringing the articles back in the kitchen, he took his cup of coffee and opened his mail. The first letter was a bill, the second was about his rent and the last one gave him quite a laugh, for an unknown reason, as he saw that it was a letter from an electrical company proposing their services. Throwing his first and last letter, he took the one about the rent and threw it on the table in the living room. He walked back to the kitchen and opened the newspaper. The first page title was ' Mutants vs. Humanity' and he immediately threw it to the side, a disgusted look on his face.  
  
His mug in hand, he walked back to the living room and blinked, turning on the wide screen television in front of the sofa. Cartoons appeared on the screen but were swiftly replaced by the news with a simple shift of Alex's hand. A policeman was being interviewed.  
  
"Well, there were two of them," he was saying. "The first one had a lighter, the second one seemed normal and we thought for a while that he was being held hostage. The guy with the lighter kept blowing things up on his way out of the club, but we cornered him a few streets away. It was then another one appeared. He was on the roof and didn't move at all, looking at us in a calm way. It was then my fellow policemen started . . . I don't know . . . they seemed to all have asthma problems. Most of them dropped their guns and started holding their throat, as if trying to pull off something that was chocking them. They didn't last long . . . they died a few moments later, their faces tuning reddish blue. It was horrible. I didn't move and the freak on the roof smiled widely, as if proud of what he had done. He turned and looked at me, and then just turned around, followed by the two other mutants that had reached the roof by then."  
  
A reporter took place on the screen, replacing the policeman.  
  
"At the same time, on the other side of town, three other mutants were causing havoc," she said sternly. "A bank was robbed by the same mutant that had attacked Liberty Island and the world summit, barely a year and a half ago. Magneto, was accompanied by a woman recognized as Laurana Lensherr, his daughter, renown for numerous bank robberies and devastations caused through Europe. The last mutant, a man in his late thirties, has been recognized as the president's secretary that was found this morning, and sent to a mutant facility were he will be awaiting trial. In the meantime, policemen are still searching for the stolen goods and Magneto and his followers, while others are still investigating the back alley murders, searching for a clue able to lead them to the assassins."  
  
The television shut down and Alexander turned back to the kitchen, where he left his now empty mug. He was about to walk back to his room when he noticed that his door was left ajar. Frowning, he swiftly walked out of the kitchen and peeked in the still empty living room.  
  
Someone had entered. He could feel it.  
  
He walked to his room, but no one was on there. The study was empty too, and so the two last options were the bathroom and the guest room. Walking down the small hallway, he quickly saw that no intruder had penetrated in the clean guest room, and so his last option was the bathroom. As he suspected, the door was ajar, and he stayed silent, listening for sounds. He heard faint footsteps on the other side, and a hand grab the metal handle. Frowning, Alex grabbed the handle on his side of the door and did the first thing his instinct told him to do.  
  
The next thing that happened surprised both the intruder and Alexander. A bolt of electricity from Alex's side of the door fried the handle and a yelp of pain was heard on the other side, followed by a girlish scream. Curious, Alexander opened the door and found three teenagers crammed behind it, one holding his hand, jumping from one foot to another in pain.  
  
"Ya coulda' opened to see who it was first, you demented freak of nature!" the boy who had been zapped, easily recognizable as William, yelled. "I can't feel my hand anymore!"  
  
"Sorry Mr. Crown, he only wanted to make a joke, but we told him it wasn't a good idea," Holly, the girl able to control water, said, brushing her skirt.  
  
The last girl, the one who had screamed in surprise, was Bliss.  
  
"Sorry kids," Alexander said, opening the door to let them come out. "Just don't do that again."  
  
The boy marched out of the bathroom, still shaking his hand up and down while the other two teenagers came out, the first holding her chest as if she had had a heart attack, the other seeming to have her head in the clouds.  
  
"Caroline, would you mind telling me why you're all here?" Alexander asked, looking at the redhead straight in the eyes.  
  
"Ya forgot, didn't ya?" William answered, opening the fridge to see if there was anything good in there. "You're supposed to take care of us today, for the next twenty two hours," he added, looking at his watch.  
  
"We're already Saturday?" Alexander asked.  
  
"Yep," Caroline said, sitting on one of the high stools. "The others are waiting in the lobby, they didn't want to come up. Too bad they didn't, finally . . . nice boxers."  
  
Instead of turning red, Alex simply smiled and sighed, shaking his head as he walked back to his room, ignoring the two girls who were now giggling noisily.  
  
"So, where do you want to go?" the trio heard Alex say from his wardrobe.  
  
"Let's go to the movies," the brown haired girl suggested. "There's this new movie about this fish who-"  
  
"Next choice," William interrupted loudly from inside the refrigerator, receiving only a glare from the girl.  
  
"Excuse *me*," the girl said, ". . . you selfish little wart."  
  
"What?" the boy asked, looking at her with big eyes, raising his hand. "Let's see who's a little wart when I'm done with you, Holly!"  
  
"WILLIAM!" Alexander yelled. "You do what you're thinking of doing and no one will be able to tell the difference between you and a pile of steaming coal."  
  
William muttered a 'fine' and glared at Holly, who had ducked under the counter and was now sticking out her tongue at him.  
  
"Lets go at the mall," Bliss proposed, breaking the silence.  
  
"Yeah, I need a new bathing suit," Holly said, returning her attention to Bliss.  
  
"Is that sarcastic?" William asked, looking at her with raised eyebrows. For answer, Holly turned her hand towards the sink from where water started pouring. It formed a ball that flew right into her hand while the water stopped leaking in the sink, and she started playing with the sphere, throwing it from hand to hand, looking at William evilly. The boy smiled cautiously and started backing up.  
  
"Holly . . ." Alexander's voice warned. "Water is an extremely good conductor of electricity, do I need to say more?"  
  
Holly sighed and returned the water to the sink, just as Alexander came out of his room, fully dressed in a pair of beige trousers, a lightly unbuttoned white shirt on top of which was another trench coat, this time being beige.  
  
"How do I look?" he teased, striking a pose.  
  
"I liked you better in the boxers," Caroline objected, tilting her head to the side.  
  
"Who doesn't," muttered Holly, following William out the door. "Come on," she said much louder, "The others are waiting downstairs."  
  
Alexander followed the three teenagers out his apartment, and as he shut the main door, the lights that had been used turned off by themselves.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Having purchased the top she wanted, Jubilee rejoined Kitty and Rogue in the next store that they wanted to see.  
  
The mall was packed with humans and it is why the professor had preferred keeping the students with 'physical changes' at the school. He had forced Scott to join them, trying to get his mind off Jean, and Logan had volunteered to come, seeing that he didn't want to be assigned the task of babysitting the other students again and that is why Nightcrawler had ended up staying in his place.  
  
Storm was silently following the girls around, vaguely looking at what the stores were displaying upfront, but truly making sure that no one noticed that most of the teenagers shopping around were mutants.  
  
She found Scott in front of a store displaying large televisions that had all been placed on the same news channel.  
  
"Seems that Magneto's up to something again," he said, seeing that Ororo had joined him.  
  
"Yeah," she answered, looking at the TV screens. "And he has new recruits . . . seems that Mystique took the president's secretary's appearance. Why?"  
  
"Just for trouble," guessed Scott. "Just to get the guy out of the way."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Look at *that*," Holly said, visibly annoyed as she looked at the display of televisions in the store across the hall. "The news are talking about you guys now," she continued, turning back at the table where she was sitting with four other mutants that included Caroline, William and Alexander. The last one was Darren, the mutant from California, who was sipping his drink silently.  
  
"People are watching it," Bliss whispered, turning to Alexander who was visibly lost in thought and didn't care about what the TV said, even though he extended his fingers in the shop's direction without looking at it, replacing the news channel with a soccer game.  
  
"Hehe . . . those two folks who were watching look surprised!" William exclaimed.  
  
"Well . . . We'll be right next door for five minutes, then we'll move to the clothing section, all right?" Holly asked Alexander, clearly not expecting an answer as she rose from her seat, followed by Caroline. "See ya!"  
  
"I'll go check out the electronics," muttered Darren, throwing his drink in the nearest garbage and walking away his hands in his pockets.  
  
"I'll go with him," added William, following the fist boy and leaving Alexander alone. "We'll meet you later. Bye."  
  
He joined Darren in front of the television display, right when the boy started turning the channels.  
  
Alexander didn't move, playing with his napkin for a while, seeming to not even care or noticed that the kids had left.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sitting with the professor on the terrace of one of the mall's café, Ororo brought her cup of cappuccino to her lips, blew on it gently and took a small sip. The professor looked at her, amused.  
  
"What?" she asked, smiling.  
  
"Nothing," he answered. "It's just that you've changed so much since you arrived at the school."  
  
"For the best, of course."  
  
"Yes," he answered. "It's just . . . Jean changed a lot too."  
  
Storm looked up at professor Xavier, giving him a sad look.  
  
"Hum . . ." the professor said, probably trying to change the conversation. "It seems that there are more mutants here than we think . . ."  
  
"What do you mean, professor?"  
  
"There are mutant children here that aren't from the school," Xavier said, frowning. "They're all together . . . That's strange . . ."  
  
"Should we go see them?" Ororo asked, looking around.  
  
"Hum . . . no. I think I recognize a few," the professor said, focusing his mind. "We need to go. Can you go get the girls? They're on the second floor, in a jewellery shop."  
  
"But-"  
  
"I'll try to explain later."  
  
Ororo rose from her seat and started walking towards the escalator.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Walking quickly between the aisles, Alexander was trying to find the kids he was supposed to watch, but they all seemed to have simply vanished.  
  
"Nice move, Shock," he muttered as he started thinking what would happen if one of them accidentally used their powers in front of civilians. What would happen if humans discovered while he wasn't there to protect them?  
  
He abruptly turned a corner but before he could make another step, he bumped into someone. He had taken so much strength while turning because he was thinking about starting to run in that direction, that he fell to the floor on top of the person he had pushed.  
  
Holding himself on his forearms, he pushed himself to his knees.  
  
"I am so sorry . . ." he started, but he was simply lost for words when he noticed that the person he had just bumped into was in fact a woman, that, unless he was greatly mistaking and hadn't noticed this new fashion statement, was for sure a mutant.  
  
His eyes simply widened as he looked at this woman's platinum hair. After a moment of silence, he looked at her eyes, seeing that she seemed to have had the same surprise and was still looking at *his* hair.  
  
"Sorry, my mistake," she said quickly, seeing that he was looking at her with the same intensity with which she had been watching him.  
  
Alexander handed her his hand and helped her to her feet, and noticed, not that it surprised him, that she was smaller than him. He couldn't help but think that she was very beautiful, and reddened at that thought, but tried to hide it.  
  
"Are . . . are you all right?" he asked, seeing her staring at him.  
  
"Why . . . yes, yes, I'm fine," she said, blushing at her turn.  
  
"Well . . . hum . . . sorry," he said, having no idea what to tell her next and noticing that a few humans were looking at them strangely.  
  
He noticed that he was still holding her hand and let go.  
  
" . . . we- . . . euh . . . Goodbye," Ororo said finally, walking away both hands on her cheeks.  
  
Alexander smiled to himself and continued his way.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Fifteen minutes had passed since Ororo had left the table. The professor had paid and called some of the students with his mind, telling them that they were going back home. They were to meet Logan and Scott at a specified exit.  
  
On the second level, the professor was looking above a rail overlooking the first floor of the mall, where many people were walking around. He let his mind wander off, listening to what some people were thinking. Some were comparing prices, some were thinking about what to buy for a friend of family member, but many were just thinking about things to do with themselves.  
  
Suddenly, the professor found a mind with shields that weren't being used and so he could feel that this person's main feeling at that moment was worry. Looking a little further in this person's mind, his eyes widened as he recognized who this person was.  
  
At that moment, the person felt that the psychic was in his mind, and had raised his mental shields, pushing him out quite brutally. The professor turned around, looking straight at someone's back. The person, obviously the one that the professor recognized, was also looking over the rail, at the people below.  
  
"Hello, Alexander," the professor said quite coldly.  
  
The next thing that happened was obviously unwelcoming, and scared many people in the surroundings.  
  
Alexander's back stiffened and milliseconds later, rather frightening electric currents started running up and down his body. The lights in the mall seemed to glow brighter, being on the brink of explosion.  
  
Alex turned around, sparks of electricity from the currents passing on his body making his eyes flash dangerously.  
  
"Nice to see that you've mastered your power," the professor said, unperturbed by the evident warning he was being given.  
  
Alerted by what was happening, Scott and Logan showed up behind the professor. Scott's hand reached his visor and Logan's hands were in fists, his claws ready to be unsheathed. The lights above them glowed a little brighter.  
  
Some of the students had showed up, seeing that some sort of confrontation was on the way. Rogue, Kitty and Jubilee were part of the group, watching Alexander with mixed fear and confusion.  
  
At the same moment, some of the teenagers under Alex's watch turned around, taking place behind him, William and Caroline giving piercing glares at the professor and the people behind him. Holly, Darren and two other teens stayed behind, having the same look Rogue and the others had. Humans had gathered, forming a faraway circle around the group, most of them wanting to see if these mutants would use their powers.  
  
Just as Alexander was going to make a move, to determine if he was going to avoid or (most probably) start the fight, L?ka and Amber arrived, running towards the cluster and followed by another group of teenagers, younger than the ones that were with Alex.  
  
L?ka placed herself between Alexander and the professor, a worried look on her face. Amber, on the other hand, looked completely hostile towards the newcomers and seemed to be on Alexander's side, ready to fight.  
  
"Now . . . now calm down please," L?ka said, holding her arms passively.  
  
Scott and Logan didn't budge, their eyes on Alexander.  
  
"Alexander, please," she said, looking at him with pleading eyes.  
  
The electric currents on his body didn't stop but he made a step backwards. Scott didn't move but Logan lowered his hands. The professor relaxed a little.  
  
One of the younger children walked to L?ka and grabbed the side of her pants, since he was too small to reach her hand. L?ka looked down at her child, then back at Xavier's group with the same worried look, as if expecting them to make an antagonistic move. She bent down and picked up the little boy and with one last look at Xavier, with something that looked like gratitude, turned around towards the others and walked away.  
  
Once Alexander turned around to follow the others, the light's brightness lowered considerably.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Hum... I don't know if I told you people already but it's normal if you're confused with my OCs. Don't worry about it, everything will clear up in a while...  
  
Hum... I think the computer can't read the 'i' with two dots thingy in Lika's name so I'm just going to write Lika in the next chapters... -_-  
  
And Nathan will be back... in a couple of chapters. 


	8. Betsy Braddock's Help

I will kill the person who gave my sister a saxophone and told her to learn in her school's music class. A SAXOPHONE. After the drums in her room, I didn't think it could get worst. -_-  
  
So . . . happy Halloween everyone. I dressed up as 'Samara' (the girl in The Ring) and everyone was spooked because I really looked like her a lot. I went to a small rock show and I went trick-or-treating on the rich part of town where they gave us lots of candy. It was raining but the temperature was great.  
  
So... My Reviewers!  
  
Tigereyes9: *sniff* less than one year to go and I'll get my licence to kil- euh, drive. Hey, where did Shade go???  
  
Lily: Burned? 0_0 The book got burned??? . . . well, Nathan gets back into the picture in this chapter!  
  
The Griffin: well, in a pretty vague way, Nate has the ability to create stuff by using people's mind and making them believe that what he created is actually real. (-_-?) But as you saw in the last chapter, the X-Gene is not correctly sited in him, so... things are going to change.  
  
Cassie3000: Yeah, Alexander is one of my OCs and Xavier and he are not pals (you'll discover why later). The kids that are with him, however, are not his. They're just mutants he takes care of. Sort of like a godfather.  
  
I'm introducing Elisabeth Braddock! Yay! I'm happy! If you don't know who she is, you'll meet her!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 8: Betsy Braddock's Help  
  
"X-Men, I would like you to meet Elisabeth -Betsy- Braddock," the professor said, followed by a smiling Asian woman with long black/purple hair and fair skin. She was wearing a white blouse on top of which was a dark blue jacket and matching pants.  
  
"She will now be working with us," the professor continued, watching all of his X-Men: Cyclops, Storm, Wolverine, Beast, Nightcrawler, Rogue, Iceman, Jubilee and Shadowcat.  
  
They were in the meeting room of the lower levels, sitting in front of a large illuminated board on which pictures were clipped. The professor nodded to Betsy and she walked forward, showing them three snapshots.  
  
"Alexander Crown, Lika Skye and Amber Sinclair," she said, sounding like a professional detective. "Three of the main recruits of another mutant group, not quite similar to yours. The professor needs you to keep a watchful eye on them, and I tell you, do not underestimate them at all."  
  
"They seemed to know you, professor," Rogue said, crossing her arms, evidently waiting for an explanation turning away from the board.  
  
"Yes, I do know them," the professor said. "I asked some of them to join the school a while after Scott, Jean and Ororo arrived here, but there were . . . complications. I won't get into details, if you don't mind."  
  
"What can you tell us about them?" Logan asked, looking at Betsy. "If we're going to follow them, we're going to need some information."  
  
The professor smirked and looked back at Betsy who was now smiling discretely.  
  
"Yes," she said. "Now for Alexander. He's a special case."  
  
"And don't be offended if I don't choose you to follow him," the professor said looking at Logan and Scott who frowned, not understanding why they couldn't do the job.  
  
"As you saw at the mall, he has perfect control over electrical energy," Betsy said. "If he had decided to fight, he would have beaten you both.  
  
~Before objecting, listen to her, Scott,~ the professor said, seeing that Scott had been ready to protest.  
  
"Your visor is made of metal," Betsy said, as if knowing that he was thinking. "Wolverine, you're skeleton is covered by metal. He'll fry you both in a matter of seconds. In fact, he could fry you by using the fluid in your body."  
  
"Well that's nice," Jubilee grumbled.  
  
"Now for his record," Elisabeth continued, returning to the wall and showing them other pictures. "He owns 75 percent of Crown Enterprises, a company dealing with every kind of art. Any piece of art found in museums on this side of the country was sold by Crown Enterprises. What they do is that they pay a very large amount of money for an art piece and sell it to museums for a slightly higher price."  
  
"So he's rich?" Bobby asked, looking at the picture of the imposing building in which Crown Enterprises worked.  
  
"He would be if he didn't give away almost all his profits to his employees," the professor stated.  
  
"So he's a good guy, no?" Kitty asked, not seeing what harm he was doing.  
  
"On the outside, he might seem so, but he's rotten in the inside," the professor said, a revolted look on his face. "This is the side he shows to humanity. On the other side, he's a criminal. And what makes me sick is that he's more respected as a criminal than as a businessman."  
  
"What does he do?" Scott asked.  
  
"Multiple things," Betsy answered for the professor. "He was a contract killer ten years ago, and now, he's permanently working and is under the protection of someone nicknamed Foe."  
  
"And who's that?" Kitty asked.  
  
"A mutant," she simply answered. "With visions quite different than professor Xavier's . . . But don't mind about that right now. So, Alexander works for Foe. He is suspected for the back alley murders."  
  
"Why did he kill those humans, then?" Beast asked, frowning.  
  
"We have no clue," the professor answered. "And that is partially why I want you to trail him. For his locations, there are four places he goes to regularly."  
  
"The first is his 'public' loft," Elisabeth said, showing another picture. "It was given to him by Foe, and is the place he is contacted as Alexander Crown, owner of Crown Enterprises. He has a small apartment, still in New York, this time being the one where he doesn't invite anyone. It's the place where he lives during the weekends. The third place is a club down town where he is known as Shock. That's were people know he's a criminal . . ."  
  
"I want Nightcrawler, Rogue and Jubilee to trail him," the professor finally said.  
  
"Where's the last place he stays at?" Jubilee asked.  
  
"Pardon me?" Betsy asked.  
  
"You said he stayed at four places," she said. "You named three."  
  
"Ah . . . well, the last place is unidentified. He's extremely cautious when going there and his mind is much too hard to gain access to for me, or the professor, to know."  
  
"Who do we watch?" Logan and Scott asked at the same time.  
  
"Ah. Her name is Amber Sinclair," Elisabeth said, looking at the professor to make sure she was doing the right thing. "And I'll give you a piece of advice, boys . . . be ready to run with her and always know where exits are."  
  
"Why?" Scott asked. "She'll run away?"  
  
"Oh no," Betsy said, chuckling. "You will have to run from her once she notices that you are following her."  
  
"I don't get it," Logan said stubbornly.  
  
"We don't have much information about her yet," she continued. "We know she lived in central Europe some time ago, but moved to the U.S. after discovering she was a mutant. According to this file, she sent her parents to the hospital."  
  
"What sort of injuries?" Scott asked.  
  
" . . . hum . . . psychosomatic," she answered. "That's why they were transferred to the asylum. But we know for sure she's not a psychic . . . According to people who saw her use her powers, the people she chooses can't do anything to stop her. That's why they run. And so, once she knows you're following her, she'll attack. She won't hesitate to kill you if she has the chance . . . And she works for Foe too."  
  
Betsy let them take a look at some of the pictures while she searched for a file in a pile of papers on the desk.  
  
"Lika Skye," she said finally, showing them her picture. "I always wondered why she didn't join your school, professor. As you would say, she has everything to make a good team member and loves kids. She has three of them, all having the X-Gene except one. She's married and has a home out of town, in New Jersey somewhere. She only goes there on week ends and spends the week in town, but I have no idea where . . . I think the place is made for us not to find."  
  
"And vy is zat?" Kurt asked with his German accent. "Ze are against you and us? Against ze X-Men?"  
  
" . . . You could say that, I guess," Xavier said. "The main team they have is called Liberty-X. The two younger mutants you saw at the mall right behind Shock were William Blare and Caroline Morris. One is English, the other is from Washington. Both are under Foe's protection."  
  
"What does it mean, 'under Foe's protection'?" Jubilee asked. "You said that that other guy was under his protection too."  
  
" . . . When a mutant is under Foe's protection, he has . . . a life indemnity," Betsy said, carefully choosing her words. " . . . as his name tells, this mutant, Foe, is very dangerous. Yet, I have no idea what powers he holds . . . Well, Foe gives them his protection. And it's incredible how much faith all of those protected have for him."  
  
"So . . . Foe is against us?" Rogue asked.  
  
"Only by his state of mind," the professor grumbled. "He would never attack the school, if it's what you are worrying about. They are against humans, not mutants. He knows that turning against mutants will only bring trouble, because he believes that there is a war coming and that we will all have to fight."  
  
"Does he know Magneto?" Logan grunted.  
  
"In fact, yes," Xavier said sadly. "I hear they are good friends."  
  
"But . . . I was just thinking . . ." Ororo said. "You said Shock probably did the back alley murders, and so he is one of the back alley murderers . . . and he's working for Foe, and so he must be leading the rest of the murderers, and so they're all working for him . . . For all we know, the two other ones, Amber Sinclair and miss Skye could be murderers."  
  
The professor smiled weakly.  
  
"Yes," he said. "It's the most logical thing. But L?ka is just not the type to do that . . ."  
  
"And what's her power?" Ororo asked.  
  
"She can take the appearance of a white wolf or just particular traits," Betsy answered. "I don't know her alias."  
  
"Of course, there are more mutants working for Foe, am I right?" Beast asked, rubbing his furry blue head.  
  
"Yes. Many are too young, but yes," the professor said sadly.  
  
"And what else can you tell us about Foe?" Logan asked.  
  
"I don't know anything else," the professor said. "Her true name, past life and present is shrouded in mystery. Only very special people know things about her."  
  
"We have an enemy that we don't know anything about," Ororo muttered.  
  
~~~  
  
The meeting finished, all returned upstairs except for Beast who returned to the med lab to work. Betsy followed them to the kitchen, where they started preparing some food.  
  
"So . . . where ya from?" Jubilee asked the newcomer.  
  
"England, actually," she answered smugly. "I work in the psy division of S.T.R.I.K.E., a British law-enforcement agency."  
  
"And what is that?" Jubilee asked, cocking an eyebrow.  
  
"It's a counterpart of S.H.I.E.L.D., a global intelligence and peacekeeping organization . . . well, lets say I work with people to keep mutants out of humanity's trouble and vice versa."  
  
"Ah," Jubilee said, chewing on bubblegum.  
  
"The professor called me and said something about the Liberty-X being in town, so I came here to give him some info," she continued. "I took them from the psy division's files. I wasn't at all supposed to, but I owed Xavier a favor."  
  
"And are you going to stay as an X-Man?" Ororo asked, having followed the conversation.  
  
Betsy smiled.  
  
"No," she said. "I only help for now."  
  
"And . . . what's your power?" Bobby asked.  
  
"I'm a telepath," she simply answered. "And I can manifest my telekinesis under the form of a sword. It's capable of slicing through anything by the force of my will," she said, without hiding her arrogance.  
  
Jubilee gave Bobby, Rogue and Kitty, all sitting at the counter, 'a look'.  
  
Having prepared herself a sandwich, Betsy ate it quickly and decided to go.  
  
"I need to take the next flight to Chicago," she said. "I got a call a couple hours ago, saying that this rebellion was going on. They need me."  
  
"Can't the X-Men take care of it?" Bobby asked.  
  
"Nah, this is S.T.R.I.K.E. stuff," Betsy said proudly. "The professor knows what to do and what not to."  
  
She walked to the door, accompanied by half of the team. Logan opened the door for her and the professor arrived before she got out.  
  
"Thank you Betsy," he said. "Tell me if you find more information about their pasts and whereabouts. I know they're on to something big and I don't want them to start the war."  
  
"Sure, professor," she said. "I'll let you know what I find out, but don't get on their bad side. Just check the newspapers to see what happens to those who oppose them."  
  
~I'm already on their bad side,~ Xavier said to her, by using his power.  
  
She smiled and walked to her car, started the engine and drove off.  
  
~~~  
  
Later that same day, the doorbell was heard and Ororo rose from her seat in the common room to go answer. She saw a Fedex guy standing in the doorway, looking at the mansion.  
  
"Hi," he said with a big smile. "We apologize for the delay but a letter directed here a long time ago got stuck at customs. Apparently, there was no stamp and no return address so it took some time for us to bring it over in person. We would ask you to pay the fee, please."  
  
"Euh . . . yes, how much?" Ororo asked.  
  
"Seven and twelve cents," the man said.  
  
Ororo walked back inside and came back with the change, thinking it was rather expensive. The man asked her to sign a paper and handed her a Fedex cardboard envelope before smiling and walking back to his truck.  
  
Storm walked back to the common room and explained what had happened to professor Xavier. He took the envelope and ripped it, to find what had been sent to him.  
  
It was a very simple looking envelope, the address of the school written in black ink that had almost completely disappeared, seeing that it had been wet and dirtied a lot.  
  
Professor Xavier looked around the room, seeing that everyone had not bothered coming to see what the letter was about.  
  
He carefully ripped the side with a paper cutter and pulled out a single piece of crumpled newspaper on which a message had been written. The professor's eyes widened as he read the group of words placed in no evident order, forming no comprehensible phrase.  
  
He immediately realized that all the words written on the newspaper had been written not with ink but with blood. The words were smudged and not very well printed but the message was clear.  
  
"Got me... kill... die... help... Max is dead... they kill... torture... Destiny gone... darkness... scars... pain... wrong... me... blood... mutant... I didn't do it... Kitty... the bones... Jean knows... HELP... tags... the truth... I meet my maker... family found... I see you... help... please help  
  
In larger letters at the bottom of the page was signed Nathan.  
  
"Is there something wrong, professor?" Kitty asked, seeing the look on his face.  
  
The professor looked in her direction, where she was talking with Rogue and Jubilee.  
  
"N-no . . . everything is fine," he said, pocketing the newspaper. "I'm just . . . I'm just going to go back to my office. I need to think."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
What you read there, about Alexander, Lika and Amber are things the professor knows, but half of their lives are unknown to him. You'll get more information later! Did you realize that the X-Men and the professor all think that Foe is a guy? ^_^  
  
And I'm finally brining Nate back into the picture . . . yay! 


	9. Reborn at the Sanctuary

Well... I beg your pardon for this delay. -_- I finished this chapter long ago, I was just too lazy to sign in and post it. I don't know why.  
  
Thanks for all my reviewers!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 9: Reborn at The Sanctuary  
  
"What the HELL do you think you were doing?" Lika yelled, stopping the car at a red light and turning to Alexander who was sitting in the passenger seat, looking very, very angry. In fact, electric currents still passed on his body now and then.  
  
"Let him be, Lika," Amber said gently from the back seat.  
  
"You could have injured innocent people!" Lika continued, her eyes flashing with anger. "Xavier can enter your mind easier when your emotions get the best of you! He could have seen everything! We could all have been exposed!"  
  
"I KNOW!" Alexander bellowed, making the nearest streetlight's lamp explode, a few people on the sidewalk starting to shriek.  
  
"I don't know what Foe's going to do with you," Lika said, this time more softly.  
  
Alexander didn't answer, and neither did he speak for the rest of the ride. The car turned in an alley and stopped in front of the same gate Magneto had stood in front of. They all got out of the vehicle and Lika opened the gate with a magnetic card, just like Coral had done. The gate opened electrically and they all walked in.  
  
The paved alleyway up to the building was at least three to four hundred feet long and was simply bordered by freshly cut grass and flowers here and there. The gate that they had passed seemed to be the only way in and out of the place, as the whole set was bordered by a tall wall. Giant New Yorkan buildings didn't stop the light from illuminating everything.  
  
The building was some sort of manor, being modern and classic all at once. It was of an impressive size, vaguely the same size Xavier's school was. The front façade had many, many windows. There was a fountain in the right middle, around which a car could pass to deposit people in font of a white staircase, delimited by two statues. Coral was sitting on the third step in her childlike form. She transformed back into a woman when they approached, and was about to speak but Amber stopped her from saying something that might fan the flames of Alexander's temper even more.  
  
"Where's Foe?" Lika asked her.  
  
"Guess," Coral answered, rolling her eyes.  
  
"The lab?"  
  
"Where else?" Coral said, turning back into her childlike form as they walked up the rest of the steps and passed the two carved wooden doors to enter the manor.  
  
The main hall was gigantic and made of white marble. Their steps echoed strangely around he hallway until they reached a circular space, from which parted two other hallways and a staircase leading in spirals to a higher level. In the middle of the room was a table on which was a floral arrangement. A crystal chandelier was hanging a bit higher.  
  
"There you are!" a voice said from the first floor.  
  
William appeared at the top of the staircase and started walking down.  
  
"You took ages for God's sake!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Lika was driving," Alexander simply said, Lika giving him a glare.  
  
"It's besides the point," she said. "You drive like a maniac."  
  
"Whatever," William said, walking back up. "By the way . . . You okay, Alex?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"We could have kicked their asses!" Will said jovially, disappearing on the second floor.  
  
"Well, you head Coral," Lika said, walking towards one of the crossing hallways. "Foe's in the med lab."  
  
Amber gave Alex a sympathetic smile and followed Lika. Alexander didn't move, listening to the unnatural silence for a while, until he decided to get this over with and tell what happened to Foe. He took the second hallway, crossed an empty common room where a wide screen television was installed in the middle of a circle of sofas and armchairs, passed a large window from which gardens could be seen, and finally found what he was looking for: a metallic door with a sign near which was a keypad. He pressed the eight-digit code on it and the door disappeared into the wall, revealing a staircase leading downwards. He took it and ended up in a dark corridor, where fish tanks were used as walls, and so there was water on either side. At the other end was another crossing, one making the hallway continue, the other being an archway to enter a room. Alex watched the continuation of the hall, but opted for the room. Knowing that it was most likely there that he would find who he was looking for.  
  
The room, like everything else on this level, was plunged in darkness. There were circular fish tanks in the walls, and other tropical fish could be seen swimming around. The floor was carpeted here and there was a bar in front of the aquariums. Alex eyed the bottles of liquor with longing but walked to the darkest part of the room. Chairs were placed around a round table and he noticed that one of them was pulled backwards to the corner. Foe was sitting there, her knees brought up to her chin.  
  
"Hey," he said, balancing his weight form one foot to another. "We . . . hum . . . ran into a little snag . . . Xavier and his people were at the mall . . . I . . . I . . . lost my temper . . . and . . . Lika arrived just in time to stop us from doing something foolish, but . . . he'll probably start keeping an eye on us . . . we need to be more careful."  
  
Foe didn't say anything, her face buried under her arms and knees. Alexander watched her for a moment and walked back to the bar where he served himself a strong drink. He walked back to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down.  
  
Foe didn't speak for a long time and it was only when she sniffled that Alexander jumped to his feet seeing that she was crying.  
  
"Ah, Lord," he mumbled, guessing that she was crying because of her daughter again. "Foe, what- . . . a listen, you'll get Lily back . . . you just need time . . ."  
  
"N-n-no," she sobbed, more tears rolling down her cheeks. "It . . . its not that . . . its . . . its that I found it . . ."  
  
". . . found what?" he asked, rubbing her back lightly. "Tell me . . . we always used to talk."  
  
"I found h-how . . . how to get her back," she said. "S-she's alive, Alex . . .She's alive!"  
  
It was only then Alexander realized that the tears running down her face were not tears of sadness but of joy. He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything.  
  
" . . . Lily . . . is alive?" he asked timidly after a very long while. "She's . . . alive!?"  
  
"Yes!" Foe said, jumping to his neck. "I . . .I'll need more time to rehabilitate her, but she's alive! . . . Her life's not in danger anymore! She's awake!"  
  
"I can't believe it," he whispered. "It's . . . impossible. It's been years and years . . . I mean . . . how old is she?"  
  
"I only got cryogenics three years after the accident, so theoretically, she's four years old now," Foe said, getting a hold of herself and so stopping to cry, wiping the tears from her cheeks and smiling widely.  
  
" . . . Can I see her?" Alexander asked.  
  
"Not yet, she's not prepared," Foe said, still smiling. "I need to block her powers for now, they're getting out of hand, and I need to teach her how to talk. She knows how to, but I need to show her . . . she's really smart you know . . . I need to go back to work, now, but I'll see you later."  
  
Foe walked out of the room, followed by Alexander. She walked up the other hallway while he just stood at the intersection. He watched her disappear and walked back upstairs. The door closed behind him and he just stood there for a while, until someone came walking by. Foe's boy.  
  
He was wearing a sleeveless black top and matching baggy pants. He was holding a soda in one hand and started ruffling his black hair with the other, watching Alexander with mild sympathy, a faint smile on his lips.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, tiling his head to the side, something extremely mature, almost frighteningly so, in his voice.  
  
"Y- . . . your mother," he said. "She . . . I've never seen her happier."  
  
The boy's smile widened and his blue eyes shone.  
  
"I know!" he said, his tone trying to be something close to happy. "Isn't it great?"  
  
"You know about . . .?"  
  
"Lily? Of course I do," he said. "She is my sister, by the way."  
  
"How come . . .?"  
  
"Oh, I talked to her yesterday," he said casually. "She can't talk very well yet, but she knows a lot. I mean, she told me her power was 'psychologically and physically exhausting'. What kind of normal four year old can say that? I can't wait for her to get out of the lab. Everyone's just going to just freak out."  
  
Alexander stayed silent.  
  
"So, have you found an alias yet?" he asked, wanting to change subject. "Not that you need one of course."  
  
The boy smiled decisively.  
  
"No, I haven't been thinking about it," he said. "And I don't think I need one after all. My name is just fine."  
  
"You are such a weirdo, Lou."  
  
The kid rolled his eyes.  
  
"EVERYTHING about you is weird," Alexander said playfully, walking away with the boy.  
  
"I wouldn't talk if I were you," the boy continued, almost seriously.  
  
"Whatever," Alex said, walking back to the main lobby. "Hey . . . where were you last night?"  
  
"Gambit and I were just fooling around down town."  
  
"You two really seem to get along."  
  
"Yeah, we do," the teenager said. "I can't wait to be sent on a job with him. It's going to be funny."  
  
Alexander stayed silent, simply walking down the clean white marble hallways with Lou.  
  
"Tell me . . ." he said finally. "You really like doing jobs?"  
  
"I like fighting for what I believe in," Lou answered calmly.  
  
"No, I don't mean it that way," Alex said. "I mean 'doing' the job."  
  
"Alexander, its all a game," the teenager sighed. "It's you or them. Them or us. I know that in the end, we're going to win, but I can't wait two to three hundred years of evolution to pass while they keep torturing us like they do, wanting to exterminate every one of us. We're forced to love doing the job if we believe in what we fight for."  
  
"Your so much like your mother," Alexander sighed.  
  
"I know."  
  
~~~  
  
Alexander passed the rest of the day at the manor, commonly referred to as The Sanctuary, taking care of the kids he had been supposed to look after at the mall. The afternoon passed rather quickly and Foe wasn't seen at all.  
  
It was at dinnertime that all the inhabitants of the mansion could be seen, all being mutants. Some were very young, others were teenagers and a small part were adults. A great part of them had obvious transformations, such as blue of purple skin, natural cerulean or green hair, scales or scars, different hands or ears, but all looked rather happy.  
  
They all gathered in the dinning room, more precisely around a large rectangle glass table where countless assorted plates were placed. They all ate, talking and laughing with each other. It was here they al found their place. At The Sanctuary.  
  
After having filled their appetite, most of the children walked to the common room Alexander had passed on his way down. Not too long after, Foe arrived. Everyone stopped what they were doing, turning to the entrance where she was standing. She was smiling, something they hadn't seen in a very long time. They noticed that a little person was standing next to her, holding her hand tightly and hiding behind the doorframe.  
  
She was tiny and seemed to be around the age of four years old. Her hair was slightly peculiar, without being abnormal. It was a mix of light and dark brown and black, reaching her below her shoulders. She had light tone skin and auburn eyes. She looked timid and unsure of herself as she followed Foe into the room.  
  
"I'd like to present you Destiny," Foe said, "my daughter."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Destiny: little girl that was talking to Nathan in his dreams. She was in cryogenics, which means that she was kept alive in 'ice' (for a reason not revealed to you yet!). she was not dead but wasn't alive. All you know is that she's been in there for a long time and stopped growing there. She's been 'alive' for about fourteen years, but is still a little six-year-old girl. She does not have the mentality of a fourteen year old but is very smart. As you will discover later on, she is something like a psychic (but isn't super powerful), can see things that happen at another place (but she can't control it. The images just pop up by themselves) and can vaguely predict things.  
  
^_^ Next chapter is entitled "Stryker's return". I'm sending it soon. 


End file.
